Harry Potter, Squatter
by Enterprise1701-d
Summary: Based on a challenge by Gabriel Herrol. A young Harry Potter is abandoned in new York by the Dursleys. He finds his way onto Olympus and starts squatting in an abandoned temple...
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**This story is a development out of one of my shuttlecraft, which in itself came out of a challenge posted by Gabriel Herroll. Thanks go to Thundramon for pointing out where I had originally read the idea!**

Chapter 1

Seven-year-old Harry Potter stared at the hundred-dollar note clutched in his small hand. This had to be a trick, right?

First, Uncle Vernon allows him to come along on his business trip to the United States, of all places. And then, after an especially rotten deal fell through, he told Harry he'd _buy_ the boy's passport off him for a full hundred dollars!

When Harry produced said booklet, his uncle actually forked over the money as promised, right before he, Aunt Petunia, and Cousin Dudley got in the car and drove to the airport to go back home.

So here he was, standing on the doorstep of the hotel they had been staying in, clutching a hundred dollars, watching the car disappear into New York traffic.

To the average seven-year-old, this situation would be a combination of terrifying and exhilarating. Terrifying because his primary caregivers had just taken off, and exhilarating because _one hundred dollars_ is a lot of money!

The car was out of sight now, lost in the sea of New York traffic, and Harry started to realize that he had money and that he was free of the Dursleys with no idea what to do now.

Turning, he started to walk with no destination in mind. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had kept him locked in the hotel room, just as they kept him locked up in their house, and this was his first chance to explore the big city.

Eight hours later, he was tired, hungry, and cold when the sun went down and he had no place to stay. He bought a hot dog (a real _hot dog!_) from a street vendor, and made short work of it, taking most of the hunger off.

He started to realize that he was in deep trouble, especially now that he had no passport, and his hundred dollars wasn't going to last him very long, especially as he couldn't keep eating hot dogs every day. No matter how good they were. And they had sauerkraut on them, so they were healthy, right?

He bought another hot dog from a different vendor. He loved how every street corner had them, what a big difference to Surrey!

The sun had completely disappeared by now, and he had no idea where he was going to sleep tonight.

For a moment, he thought about asking that pair of police officers he saw walking down the street. Then he noticed the guns, and he remembered how Uncle Vernon had warned him that police officers would put little orphans like him in jail, so he decided against the idea. Better be cold than in jail.

As Harry wandered through the city, trying not to be noticed, he kept his eyes open. Apparently, he wasn't the only one without a place to sleep, as he saw quite a few other people making do with cardboard boxes or newspapers.

The luckier ones had actual blankets!

Although sleeping in the big park looked a bit iffy to him. He was more inclined to try the alleys, as some other people did.

00000

Two weeks later, Harry had no money, but he did have a large rolled up blanket under one arm. He hadn't had a bath in a while, or a meal, but he had learned quickly how to survive, and the large skips that dotted the back alleys were an ever-abundant source of both food and useful items. Harry wasn't picky, he hadn't been in a position to be picky at the Dursleys, and that experience helped him now on the streets.

As he wandered the streets of Manhattan, he had found some of the most iconic buildings in the world; the magnificent Twin Towers of the World Trade Center, the iconic flatiron building that everyone knew by sight but almost none knew by name, and finally… the Empire State building.

When he set his eyes upon it, something drew him closer; a gut feeling, an instinct, that told him that this building was more than it appeared to be and that its secrets would be revealed to him if only he knew patience.

He walked up to the building and waited in as nonchalant a fashion as he could, leaning against the façade with his rolled-up blanket tucked out of sight behind him.

He waited, patiently. He had learned to listen to his instincts, especially after the second night when he had ignored them. A strange man had offered him food and a place to sleep, and he had been hungry, and tired, and cold, and so he ignored the voice of his gut telling him to make a run for it.

Harry had barely escaped when the guy suddenly drew a knife after taking him to an apartment, and giving him food.

His side, where the knife had scraped, twitched in memory. The wound had closed but hadn't fully healed just yet.

That night, Harry had promised to himself to always listen to his gut. And his gut told him to wait outside this building, so he waited.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to go inside.

He frowned in confusion. Why would he need to go inside? They were going to catch him, hand him over to the police, and throw him in jail!

But, he _had_ promised, so he pushed off the wall and calmly walked to the front doors of the Empire State.

Once inside, he took a good look around, and that same voice told him to walk to the waiting area across from the guard's station, as if he were waiting for someone to come down.

The guard station was manned lightly, apparently, and the single guard was busy with a visitor so Harry walked to the comfy seat and sat down. He picked up a magazine and hid himself behind it.

He heard the guard step out and walk the visitor to the elevator. The _ting_ of the arriving cart made Harry look up from his magazine.

_Wait_, his instincts urged him. _Wait!_

He waited.

The guard stepped into the elevator and did something, but the next moment, a very angry man stepped out from another elevator and called the security guard over. He was obviously trying to remain diplomatic in the face of the torrent of abuse hurled at him by the newcomer, while the visitor stood a few paces away, staring awkwardly at the confrontation.

Harry's instincts urged him on. He stood up and walked to the elevator abandoned by the guard, as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself.

A keycard was in the slot of the elevator, and a big, red, shiny, button was visible way at the top of the panel, reading '600'. Harry didn't need an incentive from his mysterious 'gut' to push it. Immediately, the doors closed and the elevator started climbing.

_Raindrops keep falling on my head…_

Harry tapped his foot impatiently. That elevator music was horrible. The numbers climbed. Harry's foot tapped. The music kept playing.

Finally, the elevator _ding_-ed its arrival, and the door slid open. Harry stepped out straight away, not a fan of tight and enclosed spaces since his stay in the cupboard underneath Aunt Petunia's staircase, and immediately wished he hadn't done so.

He was standing on a narrow stone path that was somehow suspended in the middle of the air. He could see straight down, Manhattan lying deep below, nice and safely on the Earth. He jumped up and down once, just to make sure that the mysterious force keeping up the ancient stone walkway wasn't going to let up just as he was crossing it.

Apparently, it wasn't, as the stones beneath his feet felt as solid as any walkway on earth was.

Just where _was_ he?

Dragging his eyes away from the floating walkway, and Manhattan below it, he looked to where it went.

Apparently, the stone path ended in a set of white marble steps that curled around a _cloud_, up further into the sky. Somehow, Harry realized that this was both real and solid – and out of this world.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had always called him a freak when he did something freaky, like turn his teacher's hair blue without touching her, or growing his hair back overnight after Aunt Petunia cut it all off. A wide smile grew on Harry's face; this was a place for freaks like him! Here, he could do all the freaky stuff he wanted, and nobody would shout at him for it!

He looked back down at the cobblestone pathway beneath his feet, floating in mid-air. Was this the sort of stuff he would learn if he hung around here? That would be awesome!

He followed the pathway and started climbing the steps up the cloud, looking up to where they led as he did so. And he stopped climbing, his mouth dropping open on its own accord.

From the top of the clouds rose a mountain with a flat peak, the top of which was covered in snow. Attached to the side of the mountain were _palaces_, for the lack of a better word, all of them with multiple levels, and white marble columns and gilded terraces. Light was provided by braziers that held _real fires_ instead of lights, braziers that edged winding roads that went in a crazy fashion up the slopes of the mountain. It looked like those pictures found in history books, built by Greeks and Romans, only shiny and new.

As Harry stared at the palatial city, he drew a deep breath and collected himself. He was going to stick out like a sore thumb, with his threadbare clothes and his lack of bathing.

Just what was he to do now? He looked back. The elevator had disappeared, obviously having been recalled to the ground floor. He realized that it would soon be returning with the man the guard was going to let up originally.

He had no choice, raced up the steps, into the city, and ducked into the nearest shadowy hiding spot he could find.

It took him quite some time to calm his racing heart, but when he finally managed to do so his stomach let him know that it hadn't eaten in quite some time. Clutching the blanket that he had managed to keep hold of in the excitement, Harry tried to figure out what to do next. The people here may be freaks like him, but their houses certainly showed that they had lots of money and they would not like him strolling through their magnificent city dressed the way he was.

He slipped from shadow to shadow, trying to explore the city without drawing attention to himself. He saw wonderful things, beautiful things, and signs of freakishness that made his heart ache with longing to try them himself.

He was sure that quit a few of the city's dwellers had noticed him, the curious eyes meeting his were a dead giveaway, but for some reason, most of them only spared him a look or two and then went on their way. Perhaps they believed him to be one of them, and playing a game of sorts? They certainly hadn't yelled at him to go away, thrown things at him, or turned him into a frog with their powers.

Slipping from the shadow, Harry decided to try and see what happened. He walked into the middle of the road, and acted as if he belonged there. All the people he came across, beautiful men and even more beautiful women, dressed in bright-white togas and adorned with gold, merely glanced curiously at him, and then decided to leave him be. He wasn't stopped for conversation, he wasn't shouted at to go away.

Wondering what that was about, he ignored the curious looks and followed the road he was on; to wherever it was lead him.

He arrived at a market square, filled with multi-colored tents that held vendors selling all kinds of things. His stomach rumbled, but Harry had no more money.

He watched how one man payed a vendor with gold.

Even if Harry still had some money, something told him these vendors weren't about to accept US Dollars. A pretty girl, four or five years older than him, paid with a handful of silver and bronze coins. Now what was he supposed to do?

The girl turned away from the vendor, having stowed her purchase, and looked curiously at him. He gave her a tentative smile. She looked surprised, then gave him a hesitant smile in return, and walked away.

Even if nobody talked to him, at least they weren't shouting. That was a bonus. He wondered what they were all thinking when they look at him. They certainly looked puzzled enough, but accepted him easily after a few curious looks.

Not having any money to buy food, he left the market and went in look of a good place to spread out his blanket and go to sleep. There were vast gardens, but they were filled with olive trees and rose bushes. One meant a lot of open space where he could be seen sleeping, the other means lots of thorns, so the gardens were out.

He stayed away from the top of the mountain, where the largest mansions were. He didn't want to push his luck. He followed the small roads, trying to see where they would lead, trying to figure out a good place to sleep.

On one of those roads, he arrived in an area that appeared to have been maintained far less. There was a lot of dust on the porches of these houses, and there was nobody around at all.

Looking around, he decided on a house at random, and tried the door.

Or rather, _doors_. Like with all other houses he'd seen, this house held a large double door as an entrance, like you'd see in a church. He tried them, and found them unlocked.

Looking left and right and left again just to be sure, he opened the door a crack and slipped inside.

He arrived in a large entrance hall that was at least two or three stories tall, and dominated by a large statue standing in the middle of it. He didn't know why, but somehow Harry felt as if the statue were _glaring_ at him, and he felt incredibly unwelcome – a bit like opening the door and entering Aunt Petunia's house, Harry thought.

"Sorry to bother you, Mister Statue," Harry said, politely. He looked around, and found the inside of the house to be even more dusty than the streets outside had been. "But would it be alright if I stayed here for a bit?"

The oppressive feeling intensified, and Harry started to feel rather uncomfortable. He started to wonder if this statue was magical and if it were going to start shouting at him the way Aunt Petunia always did.

"I can clean the house while I stay here," Harry offered. "Aunt Petunia makes me do the house work, and I'm pretty good at it."

The oppressive feeling wavered, as if thinking things over, and suddenly Harry felt really warm and safe, and the house felt like it was _welcoming _him. It was something completely new to the boy, and it surprised him.

He smiled at the statue. "Thanks, Mister Statue."

Why did Harry suddenly feel like someone patted his back in approval?

Shaking off the strange feeling, Harry examined the statue a bit better. The man looked incredibly well built, better than anything Harry had ever seen in picture books. In fact, it looked as if Michelangelo had examined this statue and made a rather poor copy of it when he sculpted his 'David'.

The statue stood in a strange pose, with legs spread shoulder-wide, his left hand, balled into a fist, on his side, and the other arm outstretched, holding up a golden ball.

Looking further, the boy found that there was writing on the base upon which Mister Statue stood. To his surprise, the letters didn't seem to dance up and down, like the letters on the pages of the books in school did, but he still couldn't read them properly. They were _weird_, like someone had tried to write English letters while drunk.

Shaking off the strange lettering, he looked around the large entry hall. It ran to the top of the house and the roof was made of glass or something equally transparent as Harry could see the sky above, with the large sun beaming down.

The rest of the hall was pretty empty, except for a marble table that stood in front of Mister Statue.

Turning around, Harry walked passed the statue and deeper into the house. The rest was like a normal house, three stories, connected with stairs. The layout was open-floor, with the roof supported by columns. Everywhere he was, he could see Mister Statue's imposing form.

On the ground floor, there appeared to be a fireplace, complete with a pile of dried firewood next to it, as well as metal tools needed to poke the fire and clean it out.

There also appeared to be a cooking area, a dining area, and a sitting area. The various rooms were marked off with furniture of different kinds.

At the back of the house, right out the back door, was a covered-over area that held a large pool, fed by a waterfall coming from the large mountain that dominated the city. Yet more marble columns held up the roof. Unable to help himself, Harry leaned down and felt the water. It was _warm_. There must be hot springs or something nearby.

Going back inside, and up the stairs to the second floor, Harry was beyond ecstatic to find a _real bed_! As well as various cabinets to hold clothes and other supplies. To his disappointment, the closets and cabinets were empty. He'd have to find a way to get some supplies. He may be able to use the pool and waterfall outside to wash, but without soap, he wasn't about to get clean. Washing his clothes would be a problem, as well.

The second floor was open floor as well, with a large relaxing-and-sitting area flowing into the sleeping area, with another fireplace.

He climbed the stairs to the top floor, and found another bedroom! He could have a guest! Not that he had any friends to invite over, but now he had room for one if he ever got one! The top floor was furnished less richly than the second floor, and Harry guessed this was some kind of guest bedroom, even when Mister Statue had used the house himself.

For a few moments, he leaned against the railing that separate the top floor from the large atrium, staring at Mister Statue's back. He wondered who had designed the place, as this definitely didn't fit any norms he knew of, and it definitely wasn't something he'd design himself.

The place didn't even have a bathroom! Well, other than the hot pool out back, and that was only for washing himself. He didn't see any electricity, nor any appliances to do laundry with, nor did he see a toilet. That was going to get awkward.

His stomach grumbled, and Harry pushed away from the railing. Making his way downstairs, he kept an eye out for cleaning utensils; he was determined to keep his promise to Mister Statue and having a broom or a mop would help.

He didn't find anything, unfortunately. Harry sighed; this was going to be a problem. The house held furniture – very comfortable furniture – but was lacking everything that he needed to make actual use of it. No bathroom, no utensils, no appliances, not even a bar of soap.

The cupboards in the kitchen were as bare as the cabinets in the bedrooms had been. Harry sighed, of course they were bare. Who knew how long it had been since the house had actually been used?

Looks like he'd have to go dumpster diving.

He walked to the front doors, and turned to face the statue. "Hi Mister Statue," he chirped. "I'll be right back. I just have to go and dig up some food. Maybe I can even find an old mop or a broom to get started on cleaning the house."

He didn't feel anything out of the ordinary, and just waved at the statue as he left, making sure to firmly close the large double doors behind him. Looking around, he oriented himself, wanting to make sure he could find this house again after he had found something to eat.

The sun had gone down by the time Harry returned, looking dejected. It seemed that this beautiful city had something against dumpsters, as he hadn't been able to find a single one. Nobody seemed to throw anything away, and it would make 'living off the land' difficult for him.

He felt bad about the loaf of bread that he was carrying; he'd been forced to swipe it off the table of a merchant in the market square while he was busy with another customer. He really didn't want to steal, but he was so very hungry.

He slipped back inside. With the sun down, the house was extremely dark, the only light coming from the lighted braziers that lined the road, their light streaming in through the open front door. When the door closed behind him, he was in total darkness.

Harry waited a bit, hoping that his night vision would improve and let him see. While it doubtlessly improved, he still couldn't see. It was as if the house had been sealed off from light now that the sun was down.

Silently, he edged his way inside, and stumbled into the marble table that was standing in front of Mister Statue's statue. With his free hand, he wiped it as best he could, and put the loaf down. Turning, he made his way back to the front doors, and pulled both of them open to allow the light of the braziers to filter inside.

He wondered how he was going to light the house – leaving the front doors open wasn't something that he was willing to do.

Suddenly, he had a thought. Cloaked in the half-light filtering in through the front doors, rather than being in total darkness, Harry made his way to the hearth, where he remembered firewood having been stacked.

He found the longest, thickest piece of wood in the pile, extricated it, and made his way outside. Standing on his tiptoes, he reached with the wood to the brazier and waited for it to catch.

Finally, with a makeshift torch, he went back inside and closed the front doors. The fire danced merrily as he retrieved his loaf of bread… only to find that half of it was missing. He blinked.

Then looked up at the statue. "Were you hungry, too, Mister Statue?" he asked. "I'm sorry; I didn't know statues could even _get_ hungry. Thanks for leaving me some, though. I'll bring some more for you tomorrow."

There was a strangely comforting feeling, and Harry retrieved his half-loaf and went inside. Lighting the hearth was easy enough now that he had a burning torch, and soon he was munching his bread while watching the fire.

The bread tasted strange, better than any bread he'd ever had before. He knew he wouldn't be able to survive on bread alone, and was pondering what to do next, staring into the fire as he did so.

Suddenly, the flames of the fire leaped up, turning deeper, darker shades. As the fire seemed to jump out of the fireplace, he let out a shout that was part surprise and part fear. Before he knew it, he was halfway to the cooking area, when he heard a _whoosh_ from behind him.

Thinking that the fire was now burning further into the sitting area, probably engulfing the couch he had been sitting on, he dropped and hid behind the nearest cabinet, before carefully looking over the top to see the damage.

Instead of damage, he saw a girl, probably a year or two older than him, with brown hair and dressed in simple robes, examining the sitting area.

She picked up the loaf he had been eating, and he suddenly realized he had dropped it in his frantic effort to get away from the fire.

He glanced at the fireplace. It was burning normally again – what had happened? Had the girl walked _out_ of the fire? Was that why it had scared him with its strange behavior?

He ducked back down behind the cabinet when he saw the girl turn to look in his direction. He wasn't going to get caught; he needed to get away. Sure, Mister Statue had indicated he could stay, but he wasn't about to try and explain to someone else that the statue had done so. They'd think he was crazy!

"I know someone is here," the girl said. Her voice sounded gentle, and just a little bit teasing. "After all, the hearth is burning and there is a half-eaten loaf of bread sitting here."

Harry cursed to himself. She was going to find him and the lack of walls in this house meant that she would see him if he tried to run. Now what was he going to do?

He heard her sandals on the stone floor as she walked. Then he heard the leather of the couch when she sat down. "I'm not here to harm you," she said again. Her voice sounded warm. Maybe he could trust her?

"I came because this hearth hasn't been used in a very long time," the mysterious girl said.

That explained what the girl was doing here, Harry decided, but he wondered if others would be able to do the same thing. If she could do it, while being only a few years older than him, then the grown-ups would be able to do the same thing, right? He definitely didn't want the grown-ups to know. they'd yell at him and try to hit him for stealing that bread.

"My name is Hestia," the girl said while Harry was sitting behind his cabinet, trying to calm himself and trying to think his way out of trouble. "I'm not here to harm you, if that is what you are worried about."

He'd heard that before. Even if her voice was warm and gentle and didn't sound like someone who would hurt him.

"I won't tell anyone else you're here either," Hestia said.

_That's great,_ Harry thought, _but what if they find out by themselves?_

Hestia stood up, judging from the sound of the couch. "You can trust me. I won't tell anyone, and nobody will be able to find you here."Her footsteps trailed off and then vanished entirely.

Her voice soothed him. Despite himself, he glanced over the side of the cabinet, curious to see what the girl – Hestia – was doing.

To his immense surprise, he stared directly into a pair of brown eyes. He yelped loudly and threw himself backwards, while the girl stifled a laugh. It was a lovely laugh, Harry realized, while sitting on his behind, trying to keep his heart from jumping out of his chest.

"That wasn't funny," he declared.

"Yes it was," Hestia said, smiling at him. "What's your name?"

"Harry," Harry said morosely, while standing up.

"Don't be mad, Harry, it's just a harmless joke," Hestia said, still smiling at him. She turned to the sitting area. "Won't you sit with me?"

He shrugged, still not sure about this strange girl that popped out of the fire and then scared him. He followed her, and sat down on the other end of the couch, not sure what to do or say. Hopefully she wouldn't turn him in.

"I'm Hestia," Hestia said again. "I'm the goddess of the Hearth and the Home."

He blinked. A goddess? Was that why she walked out of the fire? He glanced at the fireplace.

"Yes, that hearth," Hestia said with a small laugh. That same laugh that had calmed him earlier. "Among all the others. That's why I knew someone was here, despite this temple not having been used in a very long time. It's also why I could come. If I don't share my findings, nobody else will know."

He relaxed; that explained why she offered to keep him a secret. "So you won't tell?"

Hestia still had that gentle smile. "No, Harry, I won't," she told him. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Won't you tell me how you got here?" she asked.

Harry looked at her, feeling weary. "Promise me you won't tell any adults?" he asked, just to make sure.

Hestia looked surprised for a moment, followed by a look of realization. She smiled at him, and Harry suddenly felt warm. "I promise I won't tell anyone without your permission," she reassured him.

Harry was silent for a few moments, studying her. She looked _normal_, for the lack of a better word. Plain brown robes, brown eyes, brown hair. Her skin was a shade deeper than the pasty white most English people had.

He decided to trust her. If she didn't keep her promise, he would just have to run. No way was he going back to Aunt Petunia now that he'd felt freedom.

His silence must have clued Hestia in on his thoughts. "I can swear to it, if you wish," she offered.

Harry pulled himself from his thoughts. "isn't that the same thing?" he asked.

Hestia's smile grew slightly, and she edged closer to him, as if about to explain some great secret. Despite himself, he leaned in to hear her explanation. "Not to us gods," she confided. "We can swear on the River Styx. To break an oath made on the Styx is to invite calamity and misfortune on yourself."

Harry frowned. "What does that mean?" he asked, not understanding.

"It means that, if you make an oath, and don't hold to it, bad things will happen to you. A lot of bad things. Swearing an oath on the Styx is the most serious promise a god can make."

Harry nodded, understanding what she was trying to say. He also understood that she was offering to make such a promise to him.

"You don't have to swear," he said. "Just… promise you won't tell a grown-up."

She smiled at him. "I promise," she reassured him. "Can you tell me why?" she asked gently.

"Because adults yell and scream and throw stuff at me," Harry answered before he realized what he was saying. "Adults are bad. They never believe you, and trust other people so they always think you're bad when you're not."

Hestia looked sad at his explanation. "Not all adults are like that," she offered.

Harry shrugged. "Maybe you've got a good Mom and Dad, Hestia, but I just have Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and they hate me. And all the adults talk to them first so they all hate me, too. So please don't tell an adult!"

Hestia was smiling again, but it was sad now. "I promise," she said, again. "Can you tell me more about your Aunt and Uncle? How did you come to live with them?"

Harry sighed. "My parents were drunks that died in a car crash," the young boy explained. "Aunt Petunia said so. I was dumped with her and Uncle Vernon because nobody else would have me. They didn't want me, but had to take me. I didn't like it with them, they were always yelling and screaming and threw me in my cupboard if something went wrong."

"Your… cupboard?" Hestia asked.

Harry nodded. "It's where I slept. My cupboard under the stairs."

Suddenly, the kind and sweet Hestia looked really _really_ dangerous, with glowing eyes filled with fire and her hair turning the same red as the flames in the fireplace, but it only lasted for a moment and she looked normal again. It happened so quick that Harry just assumed it had been a trick of the light from the fireplace.

It was difficult to get through, and Harry swallowed deeply. His chest felt like it was filled with ice.

"They made me do all the cooking and gardening and car washing and stuff, and I only got a bit to eat when they were done," Harry pushed on. "And then there was this big trip for Uncle Vernon's company and they couldn't leave me behind like they normally do when they go on vacation. So we came here, to New York. Aunt Petunia kept me locked up in the hotel room, though."

Hestia's sad look remained, but she was now seated closer to him than he remembered. He ignored her closing in, and went back to his explanation. "Something must have gone wrong on this meeting Uncle Vernon was supposed to have with one of his larger customers, because he came back really furious. I hid, because Uncle Vernon always blames me if something goes wrong."

"That's sensible," Hestia said, her voice somehow soothing, and the big block of ice that sat in Harry's chest seemed to start melting.

"He didn't yell at me, though," he told her.

"That's good," Hestia answered.

Harry shook his head. "He always yells at me. It scared me that he didn't. And then, on the last day, right as we were leaving, he offered to buy my passport from me for a hundred dollars."

Hestia blinked. "He did what?" she asked, as if making sure.

"He gave me a hundred dollars, took my passport, and left with Aunt Petunia and Dudley to the airport. They left me in New York and went back to England."

There it was again – Hestia looked _dangerous_, but it lasted for just a moment. He blinked and stared at her, just to make sure. Hestia looked confused at his close scrutiny, but kept that same smile on her lips.

"I had a hundred dollars, so I could do things I'd never done before. Like eat a hot dog. they're great, by the way! Have you ever had a hot dog, Hestia?"

Hestia nodded. "I have, in fact, had a hot dog, yes," she confirmed, then leaned in, as if handing him another secret. "And more than one, too. Don't tell anyone, though." she put her finger to her lips.

"I promise," Harry promised. If they were keeping secrets for each other, that meant that they couldn't betray each other, right? Could this even mean that Hestia… that Hestia would be his first ever friend? He pushed the hopeful feeling down. He'd had hope for a friend before. It never worked out.

"Then what happened?" Hestia asked. "You were left in New York with a hundred dollars, and got yourself a hot dog."

"Bought a second one," Harry said, laughing. Hestia laughed as well, and the chest full of ice vanished. He just felt so comfortable around her.

"And then I had to find a place to sleep. My money didn't last long," Harry told her. "And even with sauerkraut, I couldn't live on hot dogs alone. Luckily, New York has a lost of dumpsters. And dumpsters have food that people throw away."

"You ate out of a dumpster?" Hestia asked, aghast.

Harry just shrugged. "People throw away perfectly good food. Something it tastes a little funny, but that's all. I don't like the fuzz that sometimes grows on it so I scrape those bits off."

Hestia definitely wasn't smiling now. The look on her face could only be described as 'shocked'.

"It's not that bad," he hurried to reassure her. "Aunt Petunia said it never hurt anybody. It just tastes a little funny."

Hestia stopped him. "Harry, I want you to forget everything that… _that woman_ has ever told you. Eating moldy food is not good, and yes, it can hurt you."

Harry looked puzzled. "But then… then I'll have even more trouble finding food," he muttered, looking at the partially eaten loaf of bread on the end table.

Hestia smiled at him. It was a nice, reassuring, smile. "I am a goddess, Harry," she reminded him. "I can conjure enough food for you with no problem."

"Really?" he asked, surprised.

"Really," Hestia replied in reassurance.

"Best goddess ever," Harry declared in awe.

Hestia flushed slightly, and looked away. "I'm really not. Can you tell me the rest of the story? Or would you like to eat first?"

Harry glanced at the bread. He'd eaten quite a bit of it and wasn't that hungry anymore. "So I spent the next couple of weeks in new York," he said. "The last couple of days there were only empty dumpsters, I guess trash day had come and I couldn't find much food. But then I found this really big building in the middle of Manhattan."

"The Empire State building," Hestia said. "It's the building we're above."

Harry nodded. "I just get these _feelings_ sometimes," he explained. "And now I got the feeling to lean against the building and wait. So I waited. Until I got the feeling to go in. There was just one guard and he was talking with someone. I sat down in the lobby and hid behind a magazine. When the guard went with the guy to the elevators, I watched them and waited."

Harry stopped, and looked at Hestia. "Do you ever get feelings like that, Hestia?"

She smiled at him. "Sometimes, yes," she answered him.

"The guard stepped in the elevator and did something, but the next moment, someone came from the other elevator, called the guard, and started arguing with him. So I slipped into the elevator and pushed the big, red, shiny, button that read '600'. And found myself here."

Hestia was laughing softly. " 'Here' is called 'Mount Olympus', the home of the gods," she explained.

"That's why everything's so pretty here," Harry said, as if it all made sense now. "Anyway, I tried to hide at first, but nobody seemed to care I was dressed the way I am."

Hestia laughed softly again. "That is because it isn't unusual for a minor god, or a nymph, to be cursed or hexed into a vagabond look. You were probably assumed to be the victim of a hex or a curse, and on your way to get yourself straightened out. Some of the major gods sometimes even take on the role, just to play a joke on people."

"That would explain the strange looks, and the fact that nobody cared," Harry said. "Anyway, I looked through the city, but I couldn't find any trash cans or dumpsters, so I was still hungry."

"Unfortunately, the people that live in this city are all supernatural, gods, nymphs, and so forth. Anything that is left over is destroyed through magic," Hestia explained. "It saves the environment."

Harry nodded. "And it leaves me hungry," he added, unable to stop himself.

Hestia just laughed softly. "I doubt that we had 'let's starve Harry' in mind when we started that policy," she said.

He crossed his arms and leaned far back into the couch. "Maybe. You never know, though."

She gave him that gentle smile of hers that warmed his insides. "Perhaps," she said, obviously humoring him.

"Anyway, I was hungry, and I didn't have a place to spend the night. I first thought about the gardens, but they're really open. And then I found this area, and the streets were empty and the houses were covered in dust. So I picked a house at random and went in."

"They're called 'temples', Harry, not houses," Hestia corrected. "They are where the gods live, as well as the attendants of the god that owns the temple."

Harry nodded, only halfway listening. "So I pushed the doors open and it feels like Aunt Petunia's house, like I'm not wanted. It's nothing new, so I have a look around and see that there's this huge statue in the front hall. Strangely enough, it feels like it's the statue that doesn't want me in his house-"

"Temple."

"Temple," Harry corrected. "So I offer Mister Statue to clean his house-"

"Temple, Harry," Hestia said, a bit sternly.

"I know it's a temple now, but I didn't know back then, and I said 'house' to Mister Statue," Harry defended himself.

Hestia just nodded, and the boy went on, "So I offered to clean the _temple_, if he'll let me stay. And suddenly, it feels really warm and it's like it's _my_ temple, you know?"

Hestia's smile had widened. "You felt welcome," she told him.

"I've never felt it before," Harry said. "It felt really weird, but also really good, you know?"

"I know," Hestia said, kindly. "It's what people feel when they are invited into another person's home. You said 'Mister Statue' let you stay – do you know his name?"

Harry shook his head. "There's something written at the foot of Mister Statue, but it's written in strange characters, like the guy was drunk or something."

Hestia looked as if she were restraining a laugh, and stood up. Extending a hand to him, she asked, "Can you show me?"

He smiled widely as he jumped out of the couch. "Sure!" he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her through the hou- _temple_, to the courtyard that held Mister Statue.

Thanks to the open floor plan, the light of the hearth was enough to allow Harry to see shapes and locations, but not enough to see details; by the time he and Hestia were standing in front of Mister Statue, he could only see the outlines of it.

"Ehm…" Harry said. "I didn't think this through."

Hestia laughed softly, and waved one hand. A ring of fire sprung up and lit up the area. "Oh my," she said, one hand to her mouth.

"What? What is it?" Harry asked her. Almost immediately, he turned to the statue. "Hi Mister Statue! This is Hestia – she came through the fireplace, isn't that cool?"

Hestia laughed softly. "Harry, now I know why this temple hasn't been used in a long time. This is the temple of Helios, the first God of the Sun. He faded a long time ago."

"Faded?" Harry asked.

"It is when people stop believing in a god. Without enough people believing in a god, he will just… fade away," Hestia explained. "There must still be part of him that lingers in this temple, for you to be able to experience the feelings you've described."

"Oh," Harry said, turning to the statue. "Hi Mister Helios. I hope you don't mind that I called you Mister Statue."

Hestia laughed softly. "I think that, had he minded, you would not have been welcomed, Harry."

The boy nodded, then realized something and turned to the statue. "Mister Helios, did you take half my loaf because you're 'faded'?"

There was no response from the statue, but Hestia looked strangely at Harry. "He took half your loaf?"

Harry nodded. "Uh-huh. I just came back with it, and put it down on this table while working on getting a torch started in the fire outside to start the fireplace, and when I came back, half the bread was gone."

Hestia laughed again. "This table, Harry, is called an 'altar'. It's where people used to place offerings for the god."

Harry smiled up at the statue. "Thanks again for leaving me half the bread, Mister Helios."

The fire Hestia had thrown slowly died out. "Come, Harry. Let's get you some food," she said in the murky twilight.

Harry smiled widely at her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her back towards the seating area. Surprised, she let herself be pulled, and laughed softly.

As they walked, Harry asked her, "Do you know why there's no bathroom here? And why the temple's so dark?"

Hestia had to smile at the question. "There's no bathroom for the same reason there are no dumpsters – gods don't need them. I'll conjure one for you. As to the temple being dark, Helios was the original titan-god of the sun. After sundown, it's supposed to be completely dark. I will conjure you a few fixtures, too."

"Whoa, cool. Thanks, Hestia!" he said, smiling widely as he sat down in the couch. Hestia, meanwhile, waved her hand. Braziers appeared along the walls, throwing fiery light throughout the building. A new door appeared in the wall not far away.

"That is so awesome," Harry said, staring at the new fixtures.

"How long has it been since you've eaten, Harry?" Hestia asked, gently. "From what you said, it sounds like you haven't eaten in a while."

Harry shrugged, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "A few days or so," he muttered, hoping Hestia didn't hear him.

Unfortunately for him, she was a goddess, so she heard him perfectly fine. Holding out her hands, the young-looking goddess suddenly was holding a bowl of soup, complete with spoon. "Here you go, Harry."

Giving her a tremulous smile, he accepted the bowl. "Thanks, Hestia." He tasted the soup. "Best soup ever," he declared, eating in earnest.

"Thank you, Harry," she accepted the praise. Usually, she would defer it, but Harry wouldn't have ears for it now. "Does it taste spicy, or do you get a burning sensation in your mouth?"

Harry, who had broken off a piece of the bread and had sopped some of the soup up with it, shook his head while eating it. "No, is gud," he managed around the food in his mouth.

"Please finish chewing and swallowing before speaking," Hestia admonished.

Harry swallowed. "Sorry, Hestia. It's so _good_, though! Is this what gods eat?"

The young-looking goddess gave him a reassuring smile. "It's fine, Harry. Please remember for the future. Regarding the food, godly food consists of Ambrosia and Nectar. Ambrosia can be turned into any kind food, while Nectar is a drink that will taste like your favorite food. Mortals can't eat Ambrosia or drink Nectar, they will burst into flames upon doing so."

Harry, remembering her earlier warning, swallowed another mouthful of soup and bread. "That's too bad," he said. "Does Ambrosia taste good?"

Hestia looked at the soup. "Does the soup taste good? And the bread?"

The young boy blinked, looked at the soup, then the bread, then her. "But… I thought you just said mortals would die from it?"

The small goddess smiled reassuringly at him. "There is a third category, Harry. Demigods. The children of a god and a mortal. They can eat Ambrosia and drink Nectar, but in small quantities. It heals them to consume godly food, but again, only in small quantities. Since you didn't die from eating the bread, I assumed you were a demigod, but just to make sure, that soup has a very limited amount of Ambrosia in it – enough that, if you were a full mortal, it would be incredibly spicy and your mouth would feel on fire, but not enough to kill you. Since you don't feel that way, you're a demigod."

Harry nodded, finishing up with sopping the very last dregs of soup with a piece of bread. "So I can't have anything else?" he asked, sounding disappointed.

Hestia laughed softly, and motioned to the bowl. It refilled at her command, and a tall glass appeared on the end table, filled with a strangely colored drink. "The bread and soup have a very small amount of Ambrosia in them, so you can have some more, Harry. The glass is pure Nectar, though, so after that, I will conjure you mortal foods just to be on the safe side."

Harry nodded, already busy with the last of his bread and the fresh bowl of soup. Hestia smiled, she always enjoyed it when people loved her food and ate well. Already, she could see the Ambrosia starting to work on the half-starved, malnourished little boy. He wasn't looking as tired or as weary as he had when she had come out of the fire earlier, and after a good night's rest, he would be very well under way of recovering from the long-term effects of malnourishment. She would be able to give him heartier food then, too – his body would be able to handle it.

She sat quietly as Harry ate, finishing the second bowl in a more polite time. He finished with the tall glass of Nectar, and eyed it with wonder when he was done. "This tastes just like your soup!"

Hestia's smile turned a bit brittle. "It takes on the flavor of the food you like the most," she reminded him.

He just nodded, stood up, and said, "be right back!" while fleeing to the new door she had installed, towards a toilet.

She restrained herself from laughing. The Ambrosia and Nectar were reactivating his body, it seemed. Standing up, she walked to the kitchen area, and started to conjure storage containers filled with food for Harry to warm up.

While she worked, Hestia let out a deep breath. _His favorite food is a simple soup? Just what had those _people_ been feeding him?_

Harry returned quickly, and found her working in the kitchen. Before he could say anything, Hestia turned to him. "I've prepared a few meals for you, Harry. You just need to warm them up."

Harry smiled widely at her. "Thanks Hestia. You're the best goddess ever," he declared, stifling a yawn.

"No, I'm really not," she deferred, her humble mindset uncomfortable with the praise. "It looks like you're tired. You may want to take a bath and get some rest."

Harry thought it over for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that's not a bad idea." He suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Ehm… you wouldn't happen to have some soap? I can take a bath in the hot spring in the back, but I'll need something to wash my clothes with."

She looked at his clothes, seeing how they were too big for him even when new, and how threadbare they were now. "I think I have a better idea," the young-looking goddess said. "Give me a few minutes." She walked to the hearth, and vanished in the fire.

"That is so cool," Harry said. "I wonder if she can teach me how to do that?"

He sat down in the couch and stared at the fire, wondering how long it would take Hestia to come back from wherever she had gone.

It didn't take her more than five minutes before she returned with a small pile of clothes, with a pair of sandals on top. "I'm not Aphrodite, so conjuring more than the bare minimum of clothing is difficult for me, so I hopped over and got a few things. I think these will fit you," she said, handing the stack over. "And since they're from Olympus, you'll fit right in."

Harry forgot about the strange statement about someone called Aphrodite and conjuring clothing, and instead noted the quality of the cloth. "Wow, thanks, Hestia!"

She gave him that gentle smile that he had come to associate with her. "You're very welcome, Harry. I'll return tomorrow, and we can take care of the rest of your necessities. The food and the clothes should tide you over until then."

"Thanks, Hestia," Harry said, suddenly feeling abashed. She'd done so much for him already. He wondered how he was ever going to be able to pay her back.

She stepped up to him, and Harry wondered what was going to happen – then he froze when he suddenly found her arms around him. It felt nice, and very protected, as if the world could come to an end and still not touch him. The warmth seemed to seep in to his very bones, a sensation he had never felt before.

"You're very welcome," Hestia said, and released him before stepping away.

"What… was that?" he asked, in awe.

The goddess looked confused. "What was what?" she asked.

"That thing you did, with your arms," Harry explained. "It felt really nice and warm, and like nothing could ever hurt me."

Hestia visibly swallowed and her face twitched for just a moment before her usual smile was back. "That is called a hug," she said. "And the reason you felt warm and protected is because I'm the goddess of the hearth and the home. People feel at ease around me, and feel sheltered with I'm close by – like a really good home should."

"Oh," Harry said. "I never felt it before. It was nice."

Her smile widened just a bit and she hugged him again. He looked like he could use another hug; she usually wasn't very demonstrative, but if ever a boy needed a hug, Harry was the one.

Tentatively, he brought his arms up and hugged her back. "Is this right?" he asked.

"Yes, it is," Hestia confirmed, before breaking the hug. "I have some work to do – gods are always busy I'm afraid," she joked slightly. "You should get some rest. I'll see you again tomorrow."

"Ok, Hestia. Have a good night!" he said.

"You too, Harry," Hestia returned, before walking to the fire and disappearing.

She did indeed have work to do. Emerging from the fire of a brazier near a temple, she walked towards it. As always mindful of others, she knocked politely and waited for permission to enter.

"Aunt Hestia!" the god owning the temple said happily. He was handsome, dressed in a postal worker's uniform, and his hands and arms blurred with speed as they started and distributed packages. Hermes, the God of Messengers, Travelers, and Thieves, was as busy as he always was.

"Hello, Hermes," Hestia said, bestowing her usual smile on her nephew. "How are you?"

"Busy as always," Hermes replied with a roguish grin. "What can I do for you, Aunt Hestia?"

Hestia sat in one of the visitor's chairs, facing the every-busy god as he sorted and processed mail. "I have need of your services, Hermes."

The god grinned at her. "An address and postage suffice, Aunt Hestia. I appreciate you coming here in person to send a package, but it's not needed, really."

Hestia smiled back. "I'm afraid I need your _other_ services, Hermes. Hypothetically, how would a god go about cursing a pair or mortals? Without falling foul of the Non-Interference Law, that is."

Hermes startled, dropped the three packages that were in mid-air, caught the first two before they were halfway down, juggled them up, caught the third one before it would hit the floor, and managed to get all three on to a table. "You, Aunt Hestia? Want to curse a mortal?"

"Hypothetically," Hestia said, smiling faintly.

"Hypothetically," Hermes replied. "It would depend on the reason."

Hestia stood up, and paced. Hermes frowned; Hestia was the kindest, gentlest, and sweetest among them. Whoever had angered her would face the full wrath of Olympus if it came down to it. He considered telling her to so 'just go for it', as Zeus would likely look the other way for her.

"Hypothetically, say I have met the acquaintance of a young mortal who was abused by his… _caregivers_," Hestia said.

"Hypothetically, it would then depend on whether this your mortal is fully mortal or a demigod," Hermes said. _Aunt Hestia tends the fire at camp. Maybe one of the demigods talked to her?_ "If your mortal acquaintance is fully mortal, you'd have to be subtle. If he's a demigod, then the mortals taking care of him are already involved with us, and you have more leeway."

"Hypothetically," Hestia answered, looking at him. "This mortal would be a demigod."

Hermes swallowed. _Definitely someone at camp, then. It must be especially bad for her to react like this._ "How bad is it?" he asked.

Hestia was silent for a few moments. "Hypothetically?" she asked. _Will this stay between us?_

"Hypothetically," Hermes confirmed. _Yes, Aunt Hestia. In full confidence._

"There may have been a mention of this seven-year-old demigod being abandoned on the streets of New York by himself," the young-looking goddess said. "And this seven-year-old was uniquely suited to survive by eating out of dumpsters as he was used to eating food that tastes funny after scraping the fuzz off."

Hermes blinked, and felt the familiar surge of rage that came whenever someone did something he found unforgivable. As God of Thieves, he could condone a lot of things, but harming a child was one of those things that crossed the line.

The God of Thieves stood up. "I would recommend that you curse their situation or their possessions, not them directly. Cursing a mortal directly may draw the attention of the Big Guy, and while I think he would more than likely look the other way for you, let's not test that theory. Cursing a situation or a possession doesn't draw attention at all. Just another use of Godly Power."

Hestia swallowed, her plan had suddenly become a lot more tangible. Before she could say anything further, Hermes approached. "Would you prefer if I did it, Aunt Hestia?"

She smiled at him, and placed her hand on his arm. "No, thank you, Hermes. This is something I feel I need to do myself. It goes directly against my domains, after all."

Hermes nodded. "A demigod's life is never easy," he said. "But some have it harder than others."

Hestia sighed. "From what he said, his mortal parents died in an accident. He was then left with his aunt and uncle, who used the situation to spread lies about the boy's parents. They kept him confined to a cupboard, and fed him… well, hardly anything from what I can gather." She swallowed. "I gave him a hug when I left. He asked what it was that I did with my arms."

Hermes felt another pang of rage surge through his body. "Damn. That hits right where it hurts," he muttered.

"Language, please," Hestia said softly. "Although I agree with the sentiment."

They fell silent for a few minutes, each lost in thought. Finally, Hermes looked up. "You may want to leave directly from here and come back here when you're done. Just in case."

Hestia dipped her head in gratitude. "Thanks, Hermes."

"No problem, Aunt Hestia. Anytime you feel like breaking the rules, I'm your guy," Hermes said, grinning, although there was little humor in it.

Hestia gave him a tolerating look, before teleporting out. She preferred traveling by fire, but in a pinch, like any god, she could teleport anywhere at will.

Arriving in a nondescript road in Surrey, England, Hestia made sure she was hidden from mortal eyes. Approaching the driveway of number 4, she looked at the house.

She lifted on hand. "I, Hestia, Curse you to never feel at home. You will be forever denied rest, searching the world in vain for peace and security that will be forever out of your grasp; forever denied that which you denied Harry Potter."

She snapped her fingers, then went on.

"I, Hestia, Curse you to never be warm. Fire and heat will never quell the chill in your bones. You will search the world in vain for warmth and comfort that will be forever out of your grasp; forever denied that which you denied Harry Potter."

She snapped her fingers a second time. She could feel her two curses already settling on the two adults in the house. By morning, they would be cold, and they would no longer feel safe or secure in their own home. Her curses would drive them to be ever restless, ever searching, but never finding. If their personalities weren't rock solid, her curses may even drive them to madness.

It wasn't as bad as some of her family had done to mortals in the past, but it was enough.

She vanished as quietly and as unseen as she had appeared. She would have to do something nice for Hermes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

Chapter 2

Over the next few weeks, Harry's life went through a drastic change. When he woke up after that first night, he found the storage containers Hestia had left, and had not been able to read any of the post-its she had attached to them. Left without instructions on how to heat the meals the goddess had prepared for him in advance, Harry had taken a guess, based on his experience preparing meals for the Dursleys. The results were fine, in his opinion.

When he explained it to Hestia, the goddess had decided she would educate him on everything she felt he needed to know – reading, writing, maths, history (both mortal and divine), geography, and various sciences.

Then, she had taken him shopping for more clothes, soap, and various other necessities.

That was when Harry explained how he had gotten that loaf of bread she had caught him eating that first evening.

Apologizing to the merchant was difficult, but the fact that the man didn't seem that upset made him feel a lot better. Hestia had explained that there were various capricious gods around that would just take things that struck their fancy, so the merchant was likely used to it.

After bringing him back to Helios' temple, Hestia gave him a few hours' worth of instruction on how to read, then left him with a few 'my first book' books that would help him learn to read faster.

Every day, Hestia came to visit, sometimes at odd hours during the day, sometimes after nightfall. She explained that she had various duties that would sometimes take her time, and that she would always try and make it to a place she called 'camp' to maintain their campfire.

Harry didn't want to pry about this 'camp' that Hestia didn't seem inclined to talk about, so he didn't ask about it. In his imagination, it was something of a Native American tent village, complete with totem pole and tipis. He enjoyed the thought of Hestia going there every night to light a large bonfire.

As the weeks turned, nearly a month had passed, and Harry was getting pretty good, if he said so himself, at deciphering some of the easier words in some of the more complex books that Hestia had given him. He still wasn't fluent, but every day Hestia came and helped him, and he got a little better.

One day, he was flipping through one of the 'encyclopedias for the youth' that was in his stack of literature, not reading the text but enjoying the pictures.

"Hello Harry," his favorite goddess said, having emerged silently from the fire, and seeing him engrossed.

"Hi Hestia!" Harry greeted back with enthusiasm.

She gave him that smile he had come to associate with her, the kind of smile that warmed him the way no fire ever did. "You seem to be enjoying your books," Hestia said, sitting down next to him and glancing at it.

He nodded enthusiastically. "It's got all kinds of pictures about forests and nature and things. And dinosaurs!"

Hestia laughed softly. "You remind me of some of my relatives, when the subject of dinosaurs comes up." she said. "All excitement."

Harry grinned. "Well, they're _dinosaurs_, Hestia. They're cool!" he told her, as if it was one great truth of the world.

The young-looking goddess smiled tolerantly. "It's hard to argue against that logic," she admitted, not that she wanted to. "Are you ready for your reading lesson?"

The young boy nodded. He loved learning to read and write and to do math. His old school had treated him as if he were dumb because their stupid books had stupid letters that wouldn't stay still, but Hestia had books that he could _read_ and she was helping him learn!

He pointed to the open book. "Can we read about forests?" he asked. "And maybe dinosaurs?"

Hestia laughed again. "Yes, Harry, we can read about nature. I think reading about dinosaurs will have to wait, though."

He looked disappointed. "But why?" he asked, whining as only a seven-year-old could.

Hestia looked on with tolerance. "Because, Harry, dinosaurs have complicated names that are just a bit too hard for you to read yet. Like that one, it's called a Tyrannosaurus Rex."

He looked at the picture, trying to mouth the name to himself. "If you work hard enough, you'll be reading about dinosaurs in no time. For now, let's pick something to read that's easier for you to learn," Hestia suggested, looking at the picture book, and flipping a few pages until she got to an article that she thought would work.

"Like this article," Hestia said. "It's about the rainforest."

Harry nodded, but Hestia could see that he was still a little disappointed. She smiled slightly. How typical of a mortal, even a demigod, to want to run before they could walk. "If you do your best today and tomorrow, I'll take you to see a real forest on Saturday. How does that sound?" she asked, enticing him.

Suddenly, Harry was anything but disappointed. Hestia had to smile at his enthusiasm, before settling in and helping him sound out the ancient Greek words. She enjoyed teaching him, her endless patience and kind and gentle nature being ideally suited for it.

00000

"What does that plant do?" Harry asked, pointing to a large bush with lots of leaves; a plant that Harry thought looked very useful. Harry had indeed done his best, and so Hestia kept her promise to take him to a real forest the following Saturday.

Unfortunately for her, she was the Goddess of the Home and the Hearth, not of plants and shrubs. As she looked at the plant, she was forced to do something no god or goddess enjoyed doing – admitting ignorance. "I'm afraid I don't know," she replied, smiling gently. "After all, I'm not the goddess of the forest, so this lies outside my domain."

"Oh," Harry answered, a little disappointed. That plant looked useful for _something_. As they walked further, he pointed to a tree. "How about that tree?"

Hestia kept her smile up; even if she realized that she was in for a very uncomfortable afternoon. It was hardly Harry's fault that he was inquisitive. She should have seen this coming.

"How about that flower?" Harry asked.

Hestia's smile grew slightly. "That's a dandelion, and it is completely edible. It's also very good in salads," she explained. If only all plants were edible, then she could answer Harry's questions.

Hmm… that gave her an idea. "How about I introduce you to my niece?" the young-looking goddess offered. "She's the goddess of the Hunt, she is an expert on plants and trees, and knows all there is to know about surviving in the wild."

Harry looked at her, and was about to jump at the chance, when he sobered. Hestia was glad to see it, it meant that Harry was starting to use his mind a bit more, and not taking every chance offered to him. Finally, the young boy said, "But don't we need to keep it a secret I live on Olympus?"

"Artie is trustworthy, I'm sure I can convince her to keep the secret," Hestia said, smiling wider.

For a moment, Harry looked at her, thinking things over as well as he could for his age. "Okay," he finally said. "I trust you, Hestia. I'd love to learn more about plants and trees for when I ever have to run again."

Hestia felt her shoulders drop slightly. It wasn't a surprise that Harry would worry about being on his own and having to make it, not after the life he had experienced so far. She hoped his former relatives were having a ghastly time. If she ever ran into them again, she'd make sure her curse held.

She plastered her smile back on her face. "Then I'll have a chat with Artie and see if she's willing to teach you. Just keep in mind, she will likely be a strict teacher, so if I do this, and Artie agrees, I want you to promise me that you will continue to do your best, like you have been doing so far."

Harry nodded. "Of course, Hestia!"

She smiled wider, and put her hand on his shoulder. "Then it's agreed. Come, let's enjoy our walk through the woods."

Harry grinned. "Okay!" He pointed to a shrub. "Does that plant do anything?"

Hestia wanted to sigh. Ah, the exuberance of young mortals. She resigned herself to admitting lots of ignorance, interspersed with edible plants.

00000

A week later, Hestia emerged out of the fire in Helios' temple to find Harry avidly reading one of the books she had gotten him. She smiled at the sight and reiterated to herself that she'd have to do something nice for Athena for all the help she gave with picking them out. That large chocolate cake she had baked for the Goddess of Wisdom didn't seem like enough, even if said Goddess of Wisdom had been exceedingly happy with it.

"Harry," Hestia said, bringing his attention to her.

"Hi, Hestia!" Harry said, dropping himself off the couch in a kind of boneless maneuver that small children were very good at. He eagerly stepped towards her, and gave her a big hug.

Hestia hugged him back. Ever since she had 'taught' the boy about hugging, he'd been greeting her with one, and she didn't have the heart to stop him. Not that she wanted to stop him, mind you.

"I have some good news," she said, stepping away from Harry. "Artie has agreed to teach you about plants and animals, but only if you try very hard."

"That's awesome!" Harry screamed, a wide smile on his face, actually vibrating in place.

Hestia returned the smile; it was so easy to be happy when Harry was so excited about something. It wasn't that big of a deal, either. Artie was happy to spend a few hours teaching a mortal about her domain, even if she was slightly less happy a few minutes later when she found out said mortal was a _boy_.

Sitting down on the couch, the Goddess of the Hearth said, "There are a few conditions, though, Harry."

Harry nodded, and sat down with her on the couch, suddenly looking serious. "What kind of conditions?" he asked, sounding suspicious. Hestia felt a familiar pang in her heart at the sight. What kind of life had Harry lived, that he was so used to being suspicious at his age?

"Nothing too bad," Hestia said with a small smile. "Artie is the Goddess of the Hunt, as I've said before. She's also the Goddess of the Moon, the Goddess of Childbirth, and the Goddess of Maidens."

Harry frowned. "What's a maiden? Is that like a maid?"

Hestia laughed softly. "Please don't say that to Artie, she would be most upset," the goddess told Harry, who nodded seriously. "A maiden is a young girl, Harry. Artie is the Goddess of young girls who haven't had relations with a man yet."

Harry frowned, trying to work that out. "Is that like kissy-face?"

Hestia had to smother her laugh. "A bit like that, yes," she said, not wanting to open _that_ particular can of worms yet.

Harry nodded again. "Okay, that's good. Kissy-face is gross."

Hestia looked amused. "One day you may feel differently, Harry."

The young boy shook his head. "Nu-uh. No way. Kissy-face is gross!"

The young-looking goddess laughed again. "If you say so, Harry," she said, humoring him. "It is related to the conditions, though. Artie, being the Goddess of young girls, doesn't like boys or men all that much. So she may take a while to get used to you, and be nice to you."

Harry's enthusiasm dimmed. "Will she be like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon?"

"No! Absolutely not!" Hestia said. Loudly. She drew a breath, and calmed herself, as Harry had jumped half a seat away from her when she shouted. She had to remember that Harry did _not_ like shouting as it reminded him of his horrendous home. "Artie is perfectly nice, and she won't harm you unless you harm her, or anyone under her protection, first. No, what I mean is that she was be very business-like. It may take her a bit to become more personable."

"Oh," Harry said, thinking it over. Finally, he just said, "OK." Then he frowned again. "What does 'personable' mean?"

Hestia smiled at him, and reminded herself that Harry was still a very young mortal. "It means 'friendly'. It may take her a bit of time to become friendly."

"Oh," Harry repeated. "Ok."

Hestia nodded, pleased that she'd gotten him to understand. "Also, Artie has said she would give you a lesson, but she'd decide on whether she'd give you more after she saw how that first lesson went. She's quite busy, as she has multiple domains, so she doesn't want to waste her time."

Harry nodded. "You told me to do my very best, and I will," he answered her.

Hestia smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. For that reason, I got you these." she reached into a pocket that seemed a lot larger on the inside. She handed him a book, a pen, and a small roll of tape. "I want you to keep these with you when Artie comes and takes you to the forest for your lesson. When she explains something, you can write it down, and when she shows you a plant, you can take a leaf or a flower, and paste it in the book and write down the description. It'll help your reading and writing at the same time, and it'll make it easier for you to learn what Artie's teaching you."

Harry accepted the item, and smiled widely. "That's so awesome," he said. "I never would have thought of that. You're so smart, Hestia!"

Hestia smiled at him. It was just a book and some supplies, and seeing him so happy with them made her feel sad that Harry never had gotten any kind of help with schoolwork before. Sad, and angry. Once again, she hoped the Dursleys were getting their just deserts.

00000

Harry was puttering around in the kitchen area of Helios' temple. Hestia always left plenty of food, and now he was trying to cook something for himself. The Dursleys had trained him rather well, and it took him very little time to adapt the Dursleys' fatty, canned-produce recipes to recipes using Hestia's fresh produce.

But some things were new to him.

Like this recipe for macaroni and cheese. Following Hestia's written instructions, he turned off the stove and lifted the pot off the fire, turning it over so the cheesy noodles would pour onto a plate.

"Hello, Harry," he heard from behind him.

Not turning, he continued what he was doing by rasping a small amount of raw ambrosia over the dish. "Hi, Hestia!" he greeted her as exuberantly as usual. "I've tried the macaroni and cheese sauce recipe. Do you want to try?"

He became aware of the young-looking goddess stepping next to him as he put the rasp and chunk of raw ambrosia away.

"Of course," Hestia said, conjuring a fork, and trying some. He looked at her as she chewed thoughtfully. "Very well done, Harry. You have a gift for cooking."

He smiled widely. "Thanks, Hestia!" he said, grabbing the fork and trying some for himself. Suddenly he became aware that there was a third person in his kitchen, one that had remained at the 'door' leading to the 'living area'.

"Oh, hello," Harry said, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed at not having seen her before. The new girl was about twelve, had deep silver-colored eyes, and was dressed in a white shirt, a silver jacket, silvery camouflage pants and black combat boots.

"Harry, this is Artie, Goddess of the Hunt," Hestia introduced them. "Artie, this is Harry, who I told you about."

"Hello, Artie," Harry said, before looking rather surprised as the girl narrowed her eyes. She looked angry.

She glanced at Hestia, before looking back at Harry. "Hello Harry," she responded flatly.

Hoping to get on her good side, Harry raised the plate with the cheese noodles. "Would you like some? I just made them," he offered, before realizing something, and saying on a softer level, "Obviously, as you just saw me finish them."

Again, Artie glanced at Hestia, before looking back to Harry. She shrugged, finally. "Why not? It has been a while since I had Mac and Cheese."

"Great!" Harry said, putting the large plate down on the kitchen table, and diving into his cupboard. "Hestia, do you want some too? I think I made too much for just me." He didn't add that he had planned on leftovers, but if he could use them to get in good with his new teacher, that would be time well spent.

"No, thank you, Harry. I've already eaten," Hestia said.

"Alright," Harry agreed, retrieving just a single plate, and serving utensils. He divided the dish between its original plate and the new one, and he offered the new plate to Artie, as well as regular utensils.

Artie tried the food while Harry took his own place, before blinking and staring at the noodles. "This is very good," she said, sounding as surprised as she looked.

"Thanks, Artie!" Harry said, grinning widely. "It's a recipe Hestia gave me, but I haven't had a chance to try it yet."

Hestia held her customary gentle smile as she took place at the table, taking enjoyment at seeing Harry and Artie share a meal. This was how a home should be.

"So, Harry," Artie finally said, after finishing half of the mac and cheese on her plate. "Aunt Hestia said you wanted to learn about nature and about survival."

Harry nodded, remembering one of the first lessons Hestia taught him – never speak with your mouth full. After chewing, he swallowed. "That's right," he said.

"May I ask what for?" Artie asked. "There are plenty of books that will teach you the basics." Her tone had some kind of tone to it that Harry didn't know. It set him on edge, though.

"I just wanted to know what the different plants do, and which ones are edible, and which ones are useful. So that, when I'm alone, I can take care of myself. Sometimes there's nothing in the skip to eat, and you need to know these things."

Artie looked surprised, and studied him for a moment. "You ate out of a dumpster?" she queried, just making sure that got the British word correct.

Harry nodded. "It's not so bad. Aunt Petunia said I could eat food with fuzz on it, but I don't like those bits and just scrape them off. It tastes a little funny, that's all. When you haven't eaten in a few days, and start being hungry enough to dream about food, you don't even notice the funny taste. So, I thought, if I knew which plants are edible, and which plants are useful for shelter and other stuff, I wouldn't have to go hungry when the skips are emptied."

Artie was quiet, but her gaze was intense. Harry felt uncomfortable with how she was studying him, but kept quiet, finishing his food. It really was good, he was glad he'd made it. Artie's plate was empty by now, and he felt a bit sad he wouldn't have any leftovers.

On the other hand, he had an excuse to cook more of the dish.

"Your… aunt… made you eat moldy food?" Artie asked, as if asking for confirmation.

Harry nodded. "Hestia said it wasn't fit to eat, but when you're hungry, you've got no choice."

Artie fell silent again, and Harry finished the rest of his mac and cheese. Yum.

"Very well," Artie said. "I will give you one lesson. After this lesson, we will see how much you have learned. If you have learned to my satisfaction, I will continue the lessons. If you have not, then it will be the only lesson."

Harry nodded, smiling widely. "Thanks, Artie!"

The goddess of the hunt seemed amused. "You may want to wait until the lesson is over to thank me."

Harry didn't like the sound of that, but tried bravely to hide it. Hestia had gone through the effort of getting him a teacher for something that really interested him, and he wasn't going to let her effort go to waste.

Trying to find something to occupy himself with, he gathered the empty plates and utensils and took them over to the sink and started washing them.

"Since you two seem friendly, I will be on my way," Hestia said, getting up from the table, and walking to the living area to vanish in the fireplace.

Harry suddenly realized he was alone with Artie; a goddess that Hestia had said didn't like boys or men. He'd seen her look at Hestia a few times, and he wasn't sure how this was going to go without Hestia here.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move. Looking over, and noticed that Artie was suddenly _right_ _there_, looking at him doing the dishes. For a moment, Harry felt like an insect under study.

"So, Harry," Artie said, still looking at him. "You said that you wanted to learn how to survive in the wild. Before I take you to a forest and start pumping botany and zoology into you, we will need to cover the basics of survival. And doing your dishes isn't going to distract me."

Harry hoped that was a joke, and carefully smiled at her. She didn't seem to mind the same, and continued to stare. "That's great," he said, putting the last plate out to dry. After drying his hands, he said, "One moment, though."

With a child's energy, he ran to the living area, to return with the empty book and the pen that Hestia had given him.

"Taking notes?" Artie asked, curiously.

Harry nodded enthusiastically as he sat down at the kitchen table, Artie taking the same seat she had taken before. "Hestia gave it to me!"

"Good, preparations matter in survival as much as they do in life. Now, let's get started. Imagine you are in a forest. What do you do first?"

Harry blinked, not having expected her to start with a _test_ of all things. His first reaction was to say something about finding either food or water. From experience, he knew he could do without food for a while, but he needed water every day or he'd get headaches.

He frowned. "Where am I?" he asked. "I mean; what forest? Are there people I can ask for help?"

Artie seemed surprised, before a smile broke out. It was the first genuine smile he had seen on her face, and Harry thought it made her look pretty. Maybe she'd smile to him more often if he kept answering?

"Harry," she said, looking business-like again. "If you keep this up, I can make you capable of surviving anywhere. What you said is exactly right. The heart of the matter is, when you enter an unknown situation, when something happens, when you run into problems… the first thing to do is determine where you are. Where you are, what you have with you, what are your immediate problems. We call this, _taking stock_. Most people in such a situation will panic. They will do something stupid. If you take stock, take just five minutes to determine your current situation and what you need to do, you already have a leg up on most other people."

Harry grinned, and started writing in his book. Being new, he couldn't write very fast, but Artie seemed happy to wait for him to finish.

When he looked up, she went on, "Now, you know where you are. There are no other people around. You are wearing just what you are wearing now. What is the next thing you do?"

Harry looked at the tunic he was wearing. It was one of the outfits Hestia had given him, and it worked fine for Olympus, where the temperatures were always balmy. Having been on the streets of New York, he knew how cold it could get. And even without food or water, temperatures could get nasty, fast.

"Ehm… How warm is it?" Harry asked. "And is it raining or snowing or windy?"

Artie smiled at him, and he found that he liked that smile very much. It meant he did something right. "I know what you are asking, Harry. That is the first priority of a survival situation – shelter. In some cases, not having a shelter can kill you in hours."

Harry started writing again. "So the first thing to do is shelter," Harry said. "First, take stock. Then, make a shelter?"

"In most situations, yes," Artie said. "Now, you've built a shelter; you are out of the wind and the rain. What do you do next?"

Harry thoughts to his time on the streets. Water or food? He could go longer without food. "Find water?" he asked.

"Are you asking, or saying?" the goddess asked, sounding vaguely amused.

"Saying," Harry said. "Water next."

"Exactly right," she replied. Harry wrote that down. "And then?"

"Food, I think," Harry said.

Artie shook her head, and Harry felt oddly disappointed that he hadn't gotten the question right. "You have a shelter, and you have water. However, water in the wild isn't always safe to drink – it's not tap water. In order to make water safe, we need to boil it."

"So we need fire first?" Harry asked. Artie nodded gently, and Harry started writing. "And then food?"

"Yes," Artie said. "Food comes last. There is a rule of threes that you may find handy. If you panic, you can die in three seconds. If you don't have a shelter, you can die in three hours. If you don't have water, you can die in three days. If you don't have food you can die in three weeks. Always make sure that you are taking care of the most urgent things first. Don't panic, build a shelter, get water, get the water drinkable, and get food, in that order."

Harry kept writing. When he finished, he looked up from the book, as Artie had stopped talking. She wasn't looking at him, but seemed to be thinking about something.

Finally, she focused back on him. "Enough theory. Time for some practice, which I'm sure will interest you a lot more."

Harry shook his head, and pointed at the book. "This is really interesting too, Artie!"

She gave him a tiny smile, but stood up anyway. Closing the book, Harry stood up as well, curious as to what Artie meant with 'practice'.

The goddess motioned for the door. "We're going to take my chariot. I hope you're not afraid of heights," she said.

Grabbing his book with his left hand, Harry followed her. Hestia teleported the two of them, but she used fire to do so. They always emerged from some kind of fire that was burning where Hestia wanted to teleport them to. Harry assumed that she always went ahead of time to set those fires.

Since Hestia was Goddess of Fire in a way, she could probably do stuff like that, which was why Artie was taking them somewhere in her chariot. He knew Hestia could teleport by herself, without the use of fire, but when she took him somewhere, they always went through the hearth.

Maybe Gods couldn't teleport people?

Right outside the temple that Harry had come to call 'home' for the last couple of months stood a magnificent silver chariot, pulled by a quartet of golden reindeer with silver antlers.

"Whoa," Harry said at the sight of it.

Artie gave him a small grin, but didn't halt in her stride. He legged it to catch up, and jumped into the chariot after her.

Taking the silver reins, Artie spurred her reindeer and soon they had left Olympus behind.

They flew high through the sky, and Harry leaned over the edge of the chariot to see better. Excitement filled him, loving the feel of freedom.

"Where are we going?" he asked, trying to hide his excitement.

Artie gave him an amused look. Apparently he hadn't succeeded at hiding his emotions. "We're going to a forest that I know," she said mysteriously.

Harry nodded, and leaned back over the edge of the chariot.

"I am not going to catch you if you fall," Artie noted calmly. "So try to maintain your balance. Auntie Hestia would be rather upset if I returned you as flat as a pancake."

Harry leaned back so he wasn't folded double over the edge. "But this is so awesome!" he protested.

Artie shook her head, and muttered something about 'boys'. "Remember my warning."

"Yes, Artie," Harry muttered, a little bit more composed. He remembered how Hestia had said Artie didn't like boys, and he was sure she would let him fall, too. He was pretty sure the fall would be fun, but the sudden impact at the end would be far less so.

He still did his best to look over the edge of the chariot, though.

Suddenly, they started descending and before he knew it, they were in a thick forest somewhere. He had no idea where he was not, having had a lot of geography lessons while he was still in school – and those lessons had been about Great Britain, not the United States in any case.

Artie gave a motion, and the reindeer pulled her chariot away, where it disappeared far quicker than a chariot pulled by four golden reindeer had any business to.

"So, time for some practice," Artie declared. "if I left you here, what would you do first?"

Harry blinked, the knowledge that _Artie didn't like boys_ and _Artie would have let him fall from the chariot_ spooking through his mind. Was she really going to leave him here?

He swallowed, suddenly feeling very nervous. He tensed up, suddenly feeling the book Hestia had given him, still clenched by his left arm.

He remembered the lesson.

"Ehm..." he swallowed, and drew a deep breath. "Try not to panic," he said, cracking the book open. The writings in his childishly scrawled Greek letters (for easier reading!) calmed his nerves. He looked up and around. "I don't know where I am. It's rather cool, but not cold. According to the list you gave me, I should build or find a shelter."

Artie smiled. "Good. You didn't panic when you thought I was going to abandon you."

He liked smiling Artie a lot more than cold Artie who would let him fall or abandon him in some forest. She motioned, and suddenly a large backpack appeared next to them. "Since you are a beginner, we will begin with 'easy' level survival."

Harry let out a breath, and felt the final nerves flow away. "What's easy level?" he asked, curiously looking over the large backpack. It was as tall as he was, and probably weighed half as much as he did from the looks of it. He wasn't sure he could lift it, let alone carry it somewhere.

"Easy is where you have all the tools necessary for survival," Artie explained. "This is a standard pack that my Hunters are expected to carry. It has all the tools necessary for survival," she said, motioning to the pack. "We will be going through it, and I will being by teaching you how to put up the tent, and how to break it down and repack it."

"Cool!" Harry said, grinning widely. He thought of something, and then asked, "what are the other levels?"

Artie smiled. "Intermediate level is where I take the tent, and the sleeping bag, and the cooking utensils, and leave you with a knife, some rope, and basic implements. You'll be expected to build your own shelter, and build your own utensils from what you find in the forest."

Her smile developed a nasty edge. "Hard level is where I give you a knife and you're expected to make do."

Harry swallowed. "So that's the toughest?"

Artie laughed. "If you're really interested, I can strip you to your underwear and drop you in a forest filled with bears. You'll be expected to walk out two weeks later, well fed, and dressed in bear skin."

Harry gaped at her. "_Really_?"

Artie remained stoic and motioned to the backpack. "Let's begin by pitching the tent. Killing bears with your bare hands can come later."

Harry nodded.

Over the next few hours, Harry learned many things he had never thought about. He learned how to pitch a tent. He learned that there were different kinds of tents, from tents that were good in summer and were very light, to tents that were good year-round, but weighed a lot more. He learned about sleeping bags. He learned how to look at the terrain to make sure that his tent wouldn't get flooded, and would be protected by trees to be out of the wind.

Finally, after his mind was stuffed with details on tents, Artie took him on a short walk through the forest and taught him about some of the plants and flowers and what their uses were.

His book was used extensively, and each plant and flower got one of its leaves pasted on its own page, along with details on what that particular plant's usefulness was.

By the time Artie took him back to Helios' temple, Harry was exhausted and could barely keep his eyes open. This time, he didn't lean over the edge of the chariot to look at the world below; instead he leaned against the edge and tried to rest a bit.

By the time Artie landed the chariot at the temple, Harry was feeling a bit more awake, the short rest having worked wonders.

"You did well, for a boy," Artie said as they dismounted the chariot. She stopped, forcing Harry to stop as well and look at her. "I will come back next week for your next lesson. I expect the same level of dedication and attention to detail."

Harry, remembering Hestia's warning about Artie only willing to do one lesson before making a decision, smiled at her. "Thanks, Artie."

"I will see you next week," Artie said, dipping her head in a short kind of nod that Harry took as a goodbye, before she walked to the chariot, and disappeared.

Smiling widely, Harry entered the temple he called 'home'.

After stoking the fire in the living area, he went to the kitchen and started making himself dinner.

He used to hate cooking for the Dursleys, since he never got to eat anything he made, but ever since he met Hestia he had learned to love it. Now it was just a relaxing way to end the day, making food for himself and ensuring leftovers for either breakfast or lunch the next day.

As he cooked, he became aware of the fire in the living area flaring up, a tell-tale sign that Hestia had arrived.

As the goddess entered the kitchen, he turned to her, and gave her a hug. "Hi Hestia!"

"Hello Harry," the kind goddess replied, her usual smile on her lips. "You seem to be in a good mood."

Harry nodded eagerly. "Artie is awesome!" he shouted exuberantly. "She knows so much about camping and surviving! She taught me how to pitch a tent, and what plants are good for what, and what to do first when you're surviving. It's great!"

Hestia's smile grew wider at his excitement. "I'm glad to hear you two get along. Will she be back?"

Harry nodded rapidly once more. "She said I did well for a boy and that she would be back for another lesson next week!"

"I'm glad to hear it," Hestia said. She stopped closer to the pots. "What are you making?"

Harry turned to his stove, and showed her the recipe he was following; ready to start learning about his new favorite hobby.

00000

Harry eyed the target that Artie had conjured for him. Over the course of the last few months, he had gotten used to the way Artie taught him.

They no longer had 'theory' lessons at Helios' Temple. Instead, Harry would be waiting outside when Artie arrived in her chariot, and give her a hug. She used to freeze up when he did so, which made Harry think she had an Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon of her own. He never asked, because he didn't like talking about the Dursleys either, and just gave her a hug when she came to collect him, and another when she dropped him off.

Apparently, she'd gotten used to them because she now hugged him back. Slightly, and not as deeply as a Hestia Hug, but it was progress.

After the customary hug, she would take him to some random forest – a different one each time – where she would begin by having him set up and break down the tent a couple of times.

After a few lessons, she had given him a hunting knife, and started teaching him how to use it to gather plants, saw off branches, sharpen sticks, and so forth.

Last week, she had started teaching him how to use a bow. It was a rather straightforward training bow, but he still liked it.

He took an arrow from the quiver on his back, nocked it, and drew a breath as he pulled back the string. Contrary to modern bows and their pulley system, the bow Artie had given him was an old-fashioned bow-and-string configuration. This meant that Harry had to maintain the full draw strength of the bow himself when he had pulled the string fully back.

This meant that he had to fire quickly, as the bow was quite heavy for his young body.

He aimed as carefully as he could, and released the string before his muscles could start twitching at the strain.

The arrow _thwack_-ed into the target, slightly off-center. Harry smiled; it was his best shot yet.

He repeated the motions. A second arrow lodged itself next to the first one. The next one did as well. And the next.

"I have the curious impression that you are not aiming for the center of the target," Artie noted from next to him.

Harry grinned at her. "I read in a book about a guy who could split an arrow by shooting another arrow at its back," he answered the implied question.

Artie seemed amused. "Unfortunately, unless you are shooting an arrow made of bamboo with an arrow tipped with a hunting tip, you're not going to be able to split an arrow," the goddess said.

Harry looked disappointed. "So not even a god can split an arrow?"

Artie stared at him. "That sounded like a challenge," she stated coolly.

Harry rapidly shook his head. "Just a statement. You said it wasn't possible."

Artie sighed. Her bow appeared in her left hand. She brought it up, not even bringing it to eye level or in its proper vertical position, and drew back the string with her right hand. With the bow horizontal, she couldn't draw it back further than halfway, before an arrow appeared, nocked and ready.

She didn't even bother aiming, and just let loose despite her not even being directly in front of the target.

Her arrow split Harry's first arrow right down the middle. "It just takes a bit of Godly power," she amended her earlier statement.

Harry stared in slack-jawed awe at the skill and power implied by Artie's shot, before looking at her. "That was incredible!"

Artie shrugged. "I _am _the Goddess of the Hunt, Harry."

He pouted at her. "You didn't even try to make it look difficult."

Said goddess shrugged again. "That's because it wasn't. For a goddess." She pointed to the target. "Back to practice," she instructed.

"Yes, Artie," Harry said, raising his bow. He nocked his next arrow. Before he drew the string back, he turned to look at his instructor. "Can I ever be as good as that?"

Artie didn't look amused. "You would think yourself as good as a goddess?" she asked, angrily.

Harry hurriedly shook his head. "I know I'm not that good yet! I just want to know if it's possible, that's all!"

She eyed him, displeased, for just a few moments. "No. Mortals can never be as good as Gods. Not without help."

Harry just nodded, and rapidly focused himself on his target practice. Sometimes, Artie could get really mad over things he asked, even if he never ever meant to make her angry. He was just curious, that's all.

His arrow was way off center.

"Release your breath halfway and calm your heart. Release between heartbeats if you can," Artie instructed.

His next arrow was closer to his original grouping, but was still off.

The goddess sighed, apparently recognizing why his aim was off. "Never think yourself as good as a god," she said. "It never ends well. You're lucky I didn't change you into a jackalope for that question."

Harry seemed to shrink. "I was just curious, I didn't mean it as a challenge," he muttered.

"You're progressing decently. For a boy. Unfortunately, you have a boy's tendencies to open your mouth and spew idiocy, too."

"Sorry," Harry whispered quietly, hoping that this didn't mean the end of their lessons.

Artie sighed deeply. "Fine, let's forget about it." She grinned at a sudden thought. "Unless you want me to turn you into a girl. In a few years, I could bestow my blessing upon you and you could be one of my Hunters. You'd be as good as humanly possible with a bow then."

Harry blinked, and stared at her. Artie stared back, looking serious.

He thought it over for a few moments. "I don't know what it's like being a girl," he answered. "If I say yes, will you change me back if I change my mind?"

The goddess of the hunt looked amused. "I am the Goddess of Maidens," she answered. "I can change you _into_ a girl. I can't change you into a boy."

Harry thought that over a while longer. "In that case, I think I'll stick to being a boy."

Artie shrugged. "Your loss." She motioned for the target. "Next shot, please."

His next shot fell into place with his earlier grouping.


	3. Chapter 3

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

Chapter 3

Harry nodded to himself as he examined the recipe. He'd leafed through the small book of recipes that Hestia had given him, and decided that today, he was going to do something _special_. Like a dessert. With chocolate.

He was in an exceptional good mood. When Artie had brought him back after their weekly lesson, Harry had managed to pet one of those gorgeous reindeer that pulled Artie's chariot. He'd been sneaky about it, and tried to make sure she hadn't noticed as he wasn't sure how she'd react. Artie could be prickly about certain things.

When she had given him a knowing smile when he gave her his customary goodbye hug, he realized that she _had_ noticed, and she hadn't seemed to care.

Thus, Harry was in a great mood, which led to the dessert. He didn't have all the ingredients for his chosen treat, however.

Opening one of the drawers in the living area cabinet, he extracted a small pouch. 'Spending money' Hestia has called it.

He rarely used the money. Having grown up without it, or anything else really, he was used to living frugally and he did not want to run out. Who knew what could happen, and when he found himself alone he would need the money.

This was Mister Helios' Temple, after all, and from what he had understood from Hestia, he shouldn't really be here. So far, Hestia and Artie had kept his presence a secret, and had been teaching him all kinds of neat things, but one day he was going to be thrown out and he would have to make do on his own.

But he wanted to do something special. Just once.

So he took the pouch and left the temple for the market district.

Still high on his exceptional good mood, Harry carefully, yet confidently, walked down the steps and to the market. Hestia had explained it to him – supernatural creatures often changed their appearance, and as long as he acted as if he had the right to be there, he'd be left alone.

Or rather, he _should_ be. A major god or goddess would be able to detect him as being mortal, and then he'd be in trouble. If they bothered to look, that is.

Arriving at the market, Harry smiled as he made his way passed the various stalls. He very much liked it here, with the hustle and bustle of various people.

After making his purchases, he was on his way back, when he noticed a very tall bearded guy was stalking a pretty girl. The girl knew it, apparently, as she looked at him, giggled, then pretended to flee from him. Bearded Guy chased her into a darkened alley.

Harry shrugged. Perhaps they were playing chase? He didn't know adults played like that. Aunt Petunia and Uncle would have rather eaten broken glass than play chase, Harry was sure of it.

As he continued on his walk, he passed the alley he had seen Bearded Guy chase the girl into. He glanced into the alley, and found that Bearded Guy seemed to have his tongue halfway down the girl's throat! His hands were on her behind holding her up, as he had her pinned against the wall of the alley with her legs around his waist.

Harry throw a hand in front of his mouth. That was so _gross_! Forget regular kissy face, Bearded Guy was obviously a pervert of some kind!

He turned tail and ran; no way was he getting involved in Bearded Guy's perversions! Whatever he was doing to that poor girl, she didn't seem to mind much, as her arms had been around his neck, and she wasn't struggling to get away.

Once he arrived at the temple, he closed the large double doors, and leaned his back against them, his heart pounding. He shouldn't have seen what he had seen, he was sure of it, and he was glad that nobody had noticed him. He'd probably be in a lot of trouble if the Bearded Guy had seen him.

Trying to forget about Bearded Guy and what he was doing to that poor girl, Harry cooked himself a nice dinner. With lots of vegetables. Hestia had explained to him that he should get balanced meals, and that included both meat and vegetables.

Having never been in a position to be a picky eater, Harry would eat anything. So, if Hestia told him to eat vegetables, he'd eat vegetables.

After he finished his meal, and feeling quite nicely full, Harry started making his special dessert.

When the dessert was in the oven, his thoughts went back to Bearded Guy.

"Hello Harry," Hestia said, suddenly in his kitchen. He jumped slightly, not having heard her arrive while thinking about the bearded pervert.

"Hi Hestia!" he greeted back, giving her a hug.

She looked at the oven. "What are you cooking?"

"Dessert!" Harry said, grinning. He looked at the timer, startled, and yanked the oven open. Grabbing the oven mitts, he lifted the tray out.

"Moelleux au Chocolat," Hestia said, seeing the creations. "That is quite a difficult dessert to make."

Harry picked one out of the forms, and put it on a plate. He eyed it, not sure if he had gotten it right.

"May I?" Hestia asked, always the polite one.

Harry smiled. "Sure," he said, glad to have someone else do the honors.

Conjuring a small fork, Hestia opened the little cake. To Harry's disappointment, the inner chocolate did not ooze out. Instead, it had set.

"It _is_ a difficult recipe to get right, Harry," the kind goddess told him, before taking some of the pastry and tasting it. "The taste is exactly right. Had you taken it out of the oven a minute and a half earlier, it would have been perfect."

Harry smiled faintly, and tried some himself. It tasted great.

"There is a reason why a dessert chef is different from a regular chef," Hestia said, recognizing his disappointment. "Desserts are hard; sometimes a minute or two can make a large difference. The taste of the moeulleux was exactly right, that in itself is an achievement."

"Do you think so?" Harry asked, having already finished the first moeulleux and starting on a second. He opened it up. It was set, too. He shrugged, and started in on it. He loved chocolate!

"I know so," Hestia said with a grin. "There are professional chefs that struggle with this dish. As I said, just a minute and a half less cooking time, and they would have been perfect."

Harry nodded. "Thanks Hestia."

She smiled back. "You're welcome, Harry."

They were silent for a few minutes as Harry finished his dessert. "Can I ask where you got the recipe?" she finally asked.

Harry frowned slightly. "It was on the book of recipes you gave me." He got up, grabbed the book, and showed her the page.

Hestia smiled faintly. "How very interesting. That book has a bit of my godly magic in it. In essence, it was supposed to give you only the recipes that you would be able to handle – in essence, a tutor in culinary skills, revealing harder and harder recipes as you gain skill. For it to have already given you this recipe, it means you have made a lot of progression in a short amount of time."

Harry looked excited again, and Hestia was glad for it. She liked it when he was excited. "I keep trying new things for dinner, usually I have enough for lunch the next day but when I don't, I try something new for lunch, too."

"Really?" Hestia asked, surprised. She had noticed that Harry ate a varied amount of food, but she hadn't been keeping close enough tabs on him to notice he ate a different meal every day. He was certainly making up for the time lost at the Dursleys! "That is very good of you," she told him.

Harry leaned in close. "I like the desserts the best, though. Especially chocolate," he whispered.

Hestia smiled widely, and leaned back. "I do, too," she said, laughing softly.

Harry laughed too, glad his friend agreed with him. As they laughed together over shared secrets, Hestia felt some of the worry over him release. It was good to laugh, to be excited about things, and it showed that Harry was slowly getting better.

"Hestia?" Harry asked, suddenly jarring her from her thoughts.

"Yes, Harry?" she answered.

"Is there a god of desserts?" he wondered.

Hestia laughed softly. "There's no god or goddess dedicated solely to desserts, Harry," she explained. "However, as I am the goddess dedicated to the home, the hearth, and everything associated with keeping the home, cooking in all forms falls in my domain."

Harry nodded. "So that's why you're so good at it?"

The humble goddess smiled at him. "My meals taste like a good home-cooked meal should."

"Are there many other gods? There's you and Artie, and you mentioned a couple of others but you never really told me about them," Harry asked, curious.

Hestia nodded slowly. Of course he would be interested. She had to be careful, though.

"There are hundreds of gods and goddesses," Hestia explained. "I can tell you a little about them, but I will have to be careful. Names have power, and if I tell you the name of some of these gods, it will draw their attention to you."

"And that would be bad," Harry said.

"Exactly," Hestia replied with a small smile. "You're essentially squatting in Helios' temple, and while he doesn't seem to mind, it is still an infraction. Especially as you are a mortal. Mortals aren't supposed to stay up here in Olympus."

It wasn't a new thing, Hestia has explained it to him many times before, but Harry felt bad about it every time. It was the closest thing he had to a home, a place where he had friends, and he wasn't supposed to be here.

He just nodded.

"First, I have two younger sisters and three younger brothers," Hestia started. "I am the eldest..."

In the end, it was complicated to explain the different gods without actually naming them, and Hestia had to go and retrieve a book so that Harry could read up on them. Over the last few months, he had gotten used to reading books, and Harry loved reading about the gods just as much as he loved reading about dinosaurs.

Especially when he got to the gory parts. The gods weren't all as nice and friendly as Hestia was, and just like for any young boy, the bloody parts were the exciting parts. It did solidify one thing in his mind, though – Hestia was the best goddess ever. Kind, patient, friendly, and helpful, just as he thought a god or goddess should be. As much as the tales of battle excited him, Harry had lived through too much to enjoy the parts where the gods – often capriciously – cursed, injured, or sometimes outright killed, mortals.

00000

Harry was quietly mopping the marble floors of Helios' Temple. After being forced to do the housework at the Dursleys, Harry had hated the activity with a passion, but ever since he made his deal with Helios, Harry had come to appreciate the repetitive motions. It gave him a chance to think while his hands and legs kept busy.

Hestia had explained that he had 'combat reflexes', something ingrained in all demigods. She also told him that mortals often mistook those for ADHD. It meant that he was always busy and had trouble sitting still.

Well, he would have had trouble sitting still, if the Dursleys hadn't gotten that particular problem out of him at an early age. Iron self-control was a way of life for him if he didn't want to spend days locked up in his cupboard.

Therefore, he mopped the floor quietly, making sure the temple was well maintained, just as he had promised to Helios in exchange for sanctuary.

Hestia had told him not to go out today, under any circumstances. Today was the night of the Winter Solstice, where all the major gods would be gathering on Olympus. Security would be extra tight, and if someone found him, he'd be in a lot of trouble.

Trying not to worry about those things, Harry kept mopping the floor. Suddenly, he felt a shudder in the air – as if it suddenly became extra heavy. Was this the extra security that Hestia had mentioned? He wished he could go to the fire and ask her, but she had explained that she would be busy. There were some forest fires in California that needed her attention, and on top of that, she would be expected to provide the food and drink for the gods' meeting.

Harry knew she wasn't nearly as put out with doing the catering as she made out, but was merely complaining to make him feel better about not being able to reach her. He appreciated the gesture, even if he disliked the imposed lack of communications.

The air thickened further, and Harry stopped his mopping. It was almost uncomfortable now, as if he needed to put in extra effort to breathe.

The comfortable presence of Mister Helios changed, almost as if it were frowning at an unexpected turn of events. Harry leaned on his mop, and was about to ask what was wrong, when the massive double doors to the temple were thrown open.

"There he is!" The shout came from a massive man dressed in ancient Greek armor, pointing a sword in Harry's direction. Helios' presence became outraged, but the three other soldiers that poured in after the first man didn't seem to notice, or care.

Somewhere deep down, Harry had been expecting this ever since Hestia came across him. They'd found him, and now he was going to be kicked out on the streets. Thankfully, Artie had taught him a lot, and he'd learned a lot from Hestia, so he'd be able to do better on his own now. He just wished he had a chance to say goodbye, and to thank them for helping him.

He knew from experience that resisting only made things worse, so he did nothing.

Before Harry knew what had happened, he had been trussed up and was being dragged out. They had also gagged him, so he was unable to shout. Not that there was anyone around to help him.

He sighed internally. He was going to be kicked out. He was never going to see Hestia again… or Artie. He was going to have to go back to the cold, and the dark, and finding his own food. That prospect didn't entice him, even with everything he'd learned. He'd no doubt do better, but that didn't mean he was going to enjoy it.

The only thing that reassured him were the lessons that Artie had given him. He'd be better able to find his own food now. That was something, at least.

As the soldier carried him, trussed up, over his shoulder, Harry relaxed. He'd be able to take better care of himself now. He would miss the clothes Hestia had given him, he hadn't been able to grab anything of the supplies he had prepared just for this event, but at least he had the knowledge and the skills he had learned from both Hestia and Artie.

To his surprise and ever-growing worry, he was _not_ being taken to the elevator going down. Instead, he was being carried _up_ the mountain, to the top, where the largest palaces were. Harry's heart started pounding. This wasn't part of the plan.

Harry struggled faintly. "Stop moving, brat," the soldier carrying him said. "You're going to be dragged in front of the gods, whether you want to or not. _They_ will get to make the decision on whether to curse you. Or kill you," he added the latter with a sinister chuckle.

They were going to curse him! Or kill him! Panic started to set in, and Harry's struggles increased. Letting them kick him out was one thing, letting them kill him was another entirely! If only he could get away! He just may be able to keep them from catching him again!

The soldier thumped him on the side. Hard. Harry let out a grunt despite his gag and went limp. That punch had seriously hurt him; the man hadn't pulled his punch at all. Pain bloomed on the side the man had hit and didn't die down. It flared with every breath he took. Harry grunted, and then shunted the pain aside. It wasn't the first time he'd been hurt, not even the first time he'd been hurt seriously. Right now, he couldn't let them pain take him over; he had to find a way to get away.

Unfortunately, the bindings were strong and tight, and the fastenings were secure. These guys knew what they were doing.

The soldiers exchanged words with some guards that were standing in front of the largest temple Harry had ever seen, and soon they were on the move again. A set of humongous double doors opened noiselessly, and suddenly Harry had the uncomfortable feeling of being weightless. The next moment, he hit the ground and let out a muffled grunt as the pain in his side flared up in intensity.

"We have caught the intruder, My Lords, My Ladies," the soldier that had carried him spoke.

"Good, you may leave," a voice replied. From where he was laying, Harry could only watch the four soldiers leave. Because he was trussed up still, he couldn't move. Not that he wanted to move very much, the pain in his side was immobilizing him despite everything he did to ignore the pain. If he did see an opportunity to leave, he may not be able to take it.

"Let's see our interloper," the voice said, and suddenly, his bindings vanished. So did his gag.

Not taking any chances with his good fortune, Harry jumped up, ignored his flaring side, and made a run for the doors.

There was a flash of light and a crack like thunder. Only much, much louder. Then the ground exploded in front of him, throwing Harry away. The voice was yelling now, screaming in anger, and Harry curled in on himself, curling into a fetal position with his head protected by his arms.

More voices shouted, either at the first or at him, Harry didn't know. Loud voices were dangerous, and Harry was in a full-blown panic attack, flashing back to when Vernon yelled and shouted and screamed and threw things at him and left him in his cupboard without food.

Loud voices wove together into a fabric that blanketed Harry with fear and despair, and he curled tighter.

In his panic, he wished for Hestia's warm arms, where he felt safe and protected. Then he remembered… Hestia was a _goddess_. And he was a _mortal_.

And mortals could _pray_ to goddesses.

As the voices waved their anger around him, Harry wished for Hestia. _Hestia, they're going to kill me. Please help me. Please please please please please…_

But Hestia didn't come. And Harry remembered her saying she was in California helping with a forest fire. And maybe she was too far away for her to hear him. He was going to die here with these angry voices…

_Artie is a goddess too, _he realized.

His curled-up position tightened when a particularly hard shout shook the floor in anger beneath him. _Artie, they're going to kill me. Please help me. Please. Please. Please._

No Artie either. Maybe these voices were too scary for her. Or Maybe it was because he was a boy and didn't let her change him into a girl.

"_**WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!?"**_A new voice boomed through the room, and Harry whimpered. That one had been perfectly understandable, even with him tuning out the shouting and screaming. Suddenly, the room was completely quiet, even the floor had stopped shaking with the anger released by the other voices.

"I find you all shouting and screaming at each other and at a young mortal boy?" the new voice was calming down, but had an undercurrent of extreme anger. Harry wanted to whimper. There were mutters by the other voices, but nothing loud. "You should all feel ashamed," the new voice said, and Harry could hear it nearing him. It sounded somewhat familiar.

"Harry?" the voice said, gently, right next to him. Harry wished he could curl in tighter. A soft hand touched his back. "Harry, it's Hestia," the voice said. It sounded somewhat like Hestia, but louder, stronger, more adult.

He took the risk, and looked between his arms. The new woman was tall. Very tall. And had fire for eyes. And when he looked closer, she looked what he imagined Hestia's mother would look like.

She smiled tightly, and shrunk down. "Hestia," he whispered.

She hugged him. He was safe now. Something inside released, like a tight iron band that had been around his chest. "I didn't think you'd come," he whispered, feeling tears leak from his eyes. A sob escaped him.

A voice said something. "You will all remain silent, I am extremely vexed with you," Hestia spoke to whoever had said something, and it sounded like her old voice, her grown-up voice.

"I was in California, helping with a fire," Hestia told him, and she was back to being gentle. He didn't care. He was warm and safe now. "It took me a few minutes before I could get away. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Harry shook his head. "You came," he whispered. "You really came."

Her arms tightened, and Harry bit back a wince. "Of course I came when I heard you pray that desperately," she said. "I'm glad you did."

"I prayed to Artie too, but she didn't come," Harry whispered, afraid that she'd take it badly that he tried a different goddess as well.

"You prayed to Artie and she ignored you?" Hestia asked, her voice suddenly taking on a dangerous undertone. There seemed to be whispers from the other voices, but they stopped suddenly. He imagined Hestia had glared at them.

Harry just nodded.

"That's not very nice of her," Hestia said, her voice somewhat tight.

"Did I do wrong? I prayed to you but then I remembered you were in California and thought you couldn't hear me so I tried praying to Artie but she ignored me," he managed to get out in a single breath.

"No, Harry. No, you did nothing wrong. You didn't know I could hear you, and you were afraid for your life," Hestia reassured him, but the last part was said rather angrily. He tried to move but his side flared in pain.

"Harry, are you in pain?"

"My side," he whispered. "One of the soldiers hit me."

Her hand reached for his side and a pleasant warmth spread through his body. The pain lessened. He heard Hestia take a deep breath. "I can heal minor wounds as Goddess of the Home," she said. "But you have two broken ribs. I'll ask someone to heal you."

Harry whimpered and tried to curl deeper into her embrace. "Don't worry," she said with a teasing tone. "Apollo is many things, but he is an excellent healer." She leaned closer. "He is the God of Healing, after all," she said. Harry just nodded.

"Apollo? If you would?" she asked.

"Of course, Aunt Hestia," one of the other voices said. There were some grumbles.

"I believe I asked for you to remain quiet," Hestia said on a gentle tone. A gentle tone with a steel undercurrent. Harry thought she sounded awesome. Hestia could quiet this bundle of angry people with just her voice. Awesome was the most appropriate word.

"Hey there, kiddo," the masculine voice said, sounding very close. "Don't worry, I'll have you fixed up in no time."

Harry risked a look. The man was blond, had blue eyes, and looked… nice, Harry supposed. He looked like a god one could ask for a favor, a god who wouldn't hurt people; Not unless they deserved it, at least.

The man, Apollo, Harry corrected, put a hand on his hurting side. "Ouch, that looks painful, kiddo. Let the handsome God of the Sun heal you up," the god said. Harry felt his side relax. "There you go, as good as new."

Harry swallowed. "Thank you, sir," he whispered, not sure how to address the god that had healed him. He didn't recall if this particular god's voice had been one of the multitude that had been yelling and screaming earlier.

Apollo smiled widely. "You're quite welcome. I'll be back on my throne for when you feel like coming out of Aunt Hestia's arms." He thought for a moment, and then grinned at Harry. "I know how difficult that is, so take your time," he teased.

"Apollo," Hestia said, on a tone of long-suffering amusement.

Harry risked a small smile. Yes, it was hard leaving a Hestia Hug. Anyone who enjoyed those couldn't be all that bad, he decided.

"Are you feeling better?" Hestia asked when she felt him relax.

He just nodded.

"Come," she said, patting his back. "I'll introduce you to the others." She leaned in closer. "Just remember to be polite, and everything will be alright."

Harry squirmed deeper into her embrace. "They'll curse me. Or kill me. That soldier said so. And when I tried to get free, he thumped me. Hard."

Hestia tightened her hug slightly. "Nobody's going to curse you, or kill you, and if I find out which of the guards hit you, I will be having a quiet word with him about his behavior, about what is acceptable and what is _not_."

There were quiet mutters from the other voices.

Harry sighed. "Okay," he whispered. He didn't want to leave the quiet safety of Hestia's protective embrace. He didn't want to meet the sources of the angry voices. Angry voices reminded him of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

She patted his back again. "I'll be right here with you," Hestia promised, as if she could read his mind. "You're under my protection. Nobody's going to hurt you." Harry looked up at her, and noticed that she was looking over his back at someone, as if she had directed the last part not at him, but at someone else.

Was she warning someone?

"Promise?" he asked, quietly. He was stalling for time. He knew it. Hestia's smile indicated that she knew it, too.

"I promise," she said, smiling gently at him. That smile more than anything reassured him. Hestia would protect him from the angry voices. Hestia wouldn't let anything happen to him. She was the best goddess ever, he decided.

He sighed and moved slightly. She released him, and stood up. He swallowed once, and stood up as well. "Come on, Harry. We'll begin with my youngest brother."

Harry took his first good look around the large room he had been thrown into by the soldier. The sources of the angry voices became at once apparent, as the room held many large thrones, thrones occupied by many large people.

And when Harry meant large, he meant _large_, as all these people were at _least_ three meters tall. They all looked very different, and each had their own distinct form of throne, he noticed. He didn't want to look them in the eyes; he kept his head down. He wanted to be out of this awful room with these people that yelled and screamed. He wanted to go back to Helios' temple, where things were quiet.

"This is my youngest brother," Hestia said, stopping in front of one of the two thrones that stood at the head of the U-shaped room. "Zeus, King of the Gods, Lord of the Sky, God of Thunder. Zeus, this is Harry Potter."

Harry offered the tall man in his pinstripe suit a tentative smile. "Hi Mister Zeus," he tried, before recognizing them man. Suddenly, unstoppably, a memory came to him. Immediately he forgot about his fears as the memory assaulted him, and he pointed accusingly. "You're the pervert who had his tongue down that woman's throat and his hands on her behind while her legs were locked around his sides!"

There came guffaws from the other gods, and the pretty lady sitting next to the king of the gods turned a deathly look at the god.

"Wha-?" Zeus managed before the words hit him. Suddenly, his hand was holding a _lightning bolt_ of all things! Harry eep-ed and tried to hide behind Hestia. "You little urchin!" he shouted, making Harry cringe. "How dare you-" The woman sitting next to Zeus coughed rather exaggerated manner. Zeus turned white.

"What is this I hear, _dear_ husband?" Hera asked, her tone completely at odds with her words.

"Ehm… Hera… that is… I mean…"

Harry stepped out from behind Hestia, who gave him a small smile. "That may not have been a good way to make Zeus like you, Harry," she offered.

The boy nodded shyly. "It was disgusting when I saw it. I just didn't know who it was."

Zeus, meanwhile, tried to bluster his way out. "I don't see why you're taking the boy's words as truth," he declared.

"Your initial reaction showed their truth," Hera answered with a withering look.

"Yeah!" Harry shouted, suddenly feeling strengthened now that he had someone else defending him. He pointed at Zeus again and waggled his finger. "You're only supposed to make kissy-face with your wife! And why were you making kissy-face with that other woman anyway?" his finger moved to Hera. "She's far prettier than that other woman was!" More tittering and quiet guffaws from the other gods.

Zeus blinked, not having expected a mortal boy, who until ten minutes ago was cowering in fear, was now _lecturing_ him. He narrowed his eyes and was about to lay into the boy again, when he noticed Hestia's tightening eyes.

"Thank you, Harry," Hera said, rather kindly, before turning to Zeus. "Now you hear it from someone _else_, husband. We will discuss this again later."

Zeus seemed to pale. Harry didn't know what Hera was going to do to her husband, but from his reaction, it looked awful.

Hestia motioned for Hera. "Harry, this is my youngest sister, Hera, Queen of the gods, Goddess of Marriage, Familial Love, and Women. And as you may have guessed by now, she's Zeus' wife."

"Hello Miss Hera," Harry said, suddenly feeling rather bad about having shouted about Zeus' affair where everyone could hear it.

"Hello, Harry," Hera said with a tight smile.

"Sorry about shouting about Mister Zeus," Harry offered, hoping that Hera wouldn't be too mad at him.

Hera glared at Zeus, before turning back to Harry. "I wish I could say that this was the first time," she said.

Zeus muttered something that Harry didn't catch. From the way Hestia's shoulders tensed, she had, though. Harry was about to turn to her and ask what Zeus had said, when Hera spoke up.

"Why would I not be nice to him, _husband_?" she snapped. "He is one of the few proper demigods out there. He was conceived in wedlock. His parents loved him, and they loved each other. This I can tell from my own domain. Tell me then, why would I not treat him properly when his existence is, for once, _not_ an affront to my domain?"

Zeus seemed to cower without physically moving, which Harry thought was a major accomplishment. At the same time, he was marveling! He knew his parents were married, the Dursleys had said so, but to hear it confirmed was wonderful! And they had loved each other, and they had loved him! The Goddess of Family Love had said so!

With Zeus silent, Hera turned back to Harry. "You have nothing to fear from me, young Harry. As I said, for once there's a proper demigod."

Harry smiled tentatively. "Ehm… Miss Hera? Do you know anything more about my parents? They died when I was very little, and the… and _they_ only said my parents died in a car crash."

Hera could read between the lines, and her eyes tightened. "Unfortunately, Harry, my domain extends only to family love and marriage. I can tell your parents were married, and I can tell they loved you and each other, as that falls within the bonds of familiar love, but I can't tell you more."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling rather disappointed. He offered the goddess a smile regardless. "Thank you anyway. I'm glad they loved me."

There were some mutters from the other gods that were cut off rather sharply when Hera shifted her looks from him to them. When the room was silent, she focused on Harry again. "Never doubt that, Harry. The Queen of the Gods guarantees it."

He smiled back. "Thank you, Miss Hera."

Hestia was smiling. "I am glad to see that your normal animosity towards demigods doesn't extend towards Harry," she told her younger sister.

Hera actually seemed to pout, although Harry was sure she'd deny it later. "I'm not that bad, sister."

Hestia just kept smiling. "Of course not, sister," she said, although her tone belied her words. Harry looked from one to the other, and he was _sure_ Hera was pouting at Hestia.

"Come, Harry, I'll introduce you to my second brother," the Goddess of the Hearth said, leading Harry to a man seated on a fisherman's chair. He had jet-black hair and sea green eyes, and looked like he smiled and laughed a lot.

"Harry, this is my middle brother, Poseidon, God of the Seas, and Father of Horses. Poseidon, this is Harry Potter."

Harry suddenly felt very out of place. "All of the seas?" he wondered, feeling nervousness creep upon him.

Hestia laughed gently. "Yes, Harry, every sea and every ocean," she confirmed. "There's no reason to be nervous, Poseidon has calmed down substantially from the tales you read."

The boy looked up at the god, who was smiling gently, and did indeed look welcoming. "Hi Mister Poseidon," Harry said, trying to muster his strength. "I've stayed away from your seas, I promise."

Poseidon blinked. Hestia froze, suddenly realizing that she was going to have to restrain her temper again.

"What do you mean, Harry?" Poseidon asked, abruptly looking rather intense. Harry could smell something salty in the air. It smelled nice; he'd never smelled it before.

"The… _they_… told me that I would poison the sea if I got near it, so they left me behind when they went to the coast," Harry said, timidly. "I don't mean to poison your seas, Mister Poseidon, I promise!"

Suddenly Harry felt very small, and Poseidon felt very large. The air got thick to breathe. The god before him drew a deep breath and seemed to calm himself down. "Harry," he said, firmly yet gently, "there is nothing about you that would poison the ocean. Everyone who respects it is welcome to enjoy its bounties. I would like to know who told you those lies."

Hestia placed a calm hand on Harry's shoulder, who seemed to be unable to believe what he was hearing. "Harry, what have I told you about listening to what those horrid people have told you?"

"Not to?" Harry offered.

Hestia gently squeezed his shoulder. "So why are you listening to them?" she asked, still offering gentle support.

Harry shrugged. "I just didn't want to mess up Mister Poseidon's oceans. I heard lots of good things about them."

"The oceans are great!" Poseidon interjected as if it were the whole truth of existence. "When we are done here, I'll take you to some of my favorite beaches, and show you the bounty of the sea."

Harry looked like Christmas had come, and ignored how some gods were muttering about 'bragging'. "Really Mister Poseidon? That'd be great! I've never seen a beach!" He suddenly shrunk down. "I don't know how to swim, though."

Poseidon waved it off. "As God of the Seas, I have my ways of teaching people to swim," he said with a wide smile. He looked at Hestia. "I would still like to know who told such horrible lies," he told her.

"Harry's previous caretakers were not suitable," Hestia said. "Don't worry, the situation is taken care of."

Poseidon, and quite a few of the other gods, were looking at her curiously. Hestia did not elaborate. "If you say so, sister," the God of the Sea finally admitted.

"I do," Hestia said firmly, yet gently. There were more curious looks from the others; but she remained silent on the subject. Instead, she nodded gratefully to Poseidon, and guided Harry away.

"Harry, this is my middle sister, Demeter," she introduced Harry to a pretty goddess with golden hair and brown eyes. "Demeter is Goddess of Agriculture, Fertility, and the Harvest." Looking at her sister, Hestia continued, "Demeter, this is Harry Potter."

"Whoa," Harry said, sounding impressed. "Nice to meet you, Miss Demeter!"

Demeter smiled back at the little boy, who so far had been either entertaining or respectful. "Hello, Harry."

"Are you the Goddess of Gardens too?" Harry asked. "The… _they_… made me tend to their garden. I didn't like weeding much, but I liked how pretty the roses were."

Demeter smiled gently at the boy. "Every plant has its purpose, Harry," she explained gently. "While weeds as you call them may not _appear_ helpful, they do put new food into the ground for other plants to absorb. And I agree with you, roses can be very pretty when tended well."

Harry smiled; he liked the Goddess of Agriculture. Hestia guided him on. She seemed reluctant to introduce him to the next god, and Harry was wondering why. So far, he'd liked the gods and goddesses she has introduced him to. Well, he had liked all except Mister Zeus, who cheated on his wife with a woman that wasn't even as pretty as her!

"Harry, this is Ares, God of War. Ares, this is Harry Potter," Hestia said as they stopped in front of the throne. The god seated upon it was huge and muscular, dressed in a leather duster, a red muscle shirt underneath a bulletproof vest. He had jet-black hair and his eyes were balls of fire.

"Hello, Mister Ares," Harry said, politely. The god made him feel like Uncle Vernon did in the past – as if the slightest spark could set him off.

"What's up, brat?" the god greeted back. "No need for all the politeness with me." He grinned. "Gets in the way of bloodshed."

Harry blinked and hesitated for a moment. "Hestia told me to be polite," he finally said, ignoring the comment about boodshed. Leaning closer to the God of War, he added, "it's very hard and I don't like it either."

Ares burst out laughing. "I like this brat," he announced. Looking closer at Harry, he said, "You could use some more training, you're scrawny."

Harry nodded. "_They_ didn't feed me much and kept me lucked in my cupboard a lot of the time. Hestia's been taking good care of me, and Artie's been teaching me to use knives and bows and stuff."

Ares laughed loudly again. "You get away with calling the Goddess of the Hunt _Artie_?" he looked at one of the goddesses. "Getting soft, are we?"

"Ares," Hestia admonished.

The god of war subsided. "Sorry Aunt Hestia." He turned to Harry. "Look me up; I'll give you some training to put some muscles on those bones."

"Sure, I love learning!" Harry said, enthusiastically.

As Ares laughed, again, Hestia turned to him. "Come, Harry. Let me introduce you to Apollo."

She showed him to the next god on the male side; a god dressed in shiny gold, seated upon a golden throne.

"Harry, this is Apollo, God of Light, the Sun, healing, music, art, poetry, archery, reason, knowledge, and prophecy. Apollo, this is Harry Potter," Hestia introduced them.

Harry smiled up at the blindingly dressed god, remembering how he had been the one to heal him earlier. "Hi Mister Apollo. Thanks for healing me!"

"You're quite welcome, Harry," the god said, grinning widely. His teeth were so white they shone, and Harry to squint to get a good look at him. "Perhaps a Haiku is in order. Let's see..."

"NO!" the other gods and goddesses interrupted, causing Harry to jump at the unexpected loud noise. He didn't do well with shouting and screaming, and his earlier panic attack had only made things worse.

Apollo seemed to dim, and pouted at the others. "You're all so mean," he complained.

Harry didn't know what a Haiku was, but if it caused the other gods to protest, it must be something truly awful. Still, the god in front of him had healed him, and Harry hated seeing him down. He took a few steps, and patted the god on the knee – just like the other gods; it was the highest part he could reach when they were seated down in their three meter tall forms.

"It's alright, Mister Apollo. Maybe later?" the little boy offered, trying to cheer him up.

Some light seemed to seep back into the depressed god, while muttered protests sounded from around the room.

Before the sun god could say anything, Harry went on to say, "Hestia said you have a lot of jobs to do, so I hope you're not too busy."

Apollo grinned at the little boy, light shining off those shiny white teeth again. "Lots of work for me. I am a busy god. You're fun, Harry."

The other gods groaned, while Harry just looked confused. The last part seemed a good thing, the god liked him, and the first two sentences said he was very busy, but he didn't understand what the god was trying to say _at all_.

"You're missing a syllable in the second sentence. You only have six instead of seven," One of the goddesses pointed out, making Apollo dim again. When Harry looked at the goddess that had spoken, he noticed her intense gray eyes. He made to say something, defend the god that had healed him, when he was interrupted.

"Don't worry, Harry," Hestia said. "He's been obsessed with Haikus ever since he visited Japan."

Harry nodded gravely, the way he always did when he didn't completely understand but was willing to go along with whatever she said.

"Why are you all hating on my haikus?" Apollo complained.

"Because they're awful," another goddess replied – this one was dressed in silver, and looked like what Harry imaged Artie's mom would look like. He wondered if they were related; perhaps this really _was_ Artie's mom?

Apollo dimmed again, and Harry wondered if he should pat the god on the knee again to try and cheer him up.

Hestia beat him to it. "There, there, Apollo," Hestia said with a small smile. "Practice makes perfect, I'm sure you'll write some wonderful haikus once you get the rhythm down. It's a Japanese practice, and us Greek Gods are bound to have issues learning the skill."

Apollo seemed to light up again, and Harry wondered if that was normal. The god seemed to dim and light up at the drop of a hat.

"Come, Harry, I'll introduce you to another nephew of mine. He's called Hermes," Hestia said, smiling at seeing the sun god's mood restored.

They walked over to the next god on the male side of the large meeting room, and Harry gave the man a small, tentative smile. He got a big one from the god in return, making him feel better. He still somewhat felt bad about Mister Apollo being teased by the others, but the smile from Mister Hermes made him feel better.

"Harry, this is Hermes, the Messenger of the Gods. He's the God of Roads, Messengers, and Travelers. That's why his cabin at camp welcomes everyone," Hestia introduced. "Hermes, this is Harry Potter."

"Hello Harry," Hermes greeted kindly. He knew how overwhelming things could be, and as God of Travelers, he was used to both making nice with people, and putting people at ease.

"Hello Mister Hermes. It's very nice of you to let everyone into your cabin at camp," Harry said, smiling.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Hermes said, putting on an exaggerated air. Harry laughed softly, still unsure whether he was even allowed to laugh or not.

"Hermes is also the God of Thieves," Hestia added.

Harry looked at her, as if asking if she were joking or not. She smiled softly at him, letting him know it was not a joke. Harry turned to look at Hermes. Then, he remembered having to steal in order to feed himself.

He didn't like remembering those episodes, he felt ashamed of them, but he was well aware that this cozy life on Olympus could fall apart at any moment, and he would have to go back to taking care of himself. And when that happened, he may need to steal again.

"Do you look over all thieves?" Harry asked quietly. Most mortals wouldn't have understood him, but this was a hall filled with gods. They heard him perfectly fine.

Hermes grinned in a conspiring manner. "Not personally, but I am aware of them," he said.

The young boy nodded. "Thanks, Mister Hermes," he offered. There were some mutters from the surrounding gods.

Hermes narrowed his eyes at the others. Harry's shoulder sunk. "After _they_ left me in New York, I needed food," he muttered quietly. The mutterings from the other gods turned on a dime.

Hestia, hoping to break the dark mood, said, "Being the Messenger of the Gods, Hermes is also responsible for handling mail. So if you ever need something sent, you can box it up, put the delivery address on it, and offer some gold, and Hermes will deliver it."

Hermes frowned. "And I have my hands full with that, let me tell you," he griped. Harry smiled tentatively, not sure whether the god was playing or not. Hermes grinned down at the little boy. "Instant delivery, too. You can't beat Hermes Mail."

Harry grinned back. Mister Hermes seemed like a good guy – a bit like Mister Apollo, he seemed rather laid back. "That sounds like a lot of work," Harry said, smiling up at the god.

Hermes grunted. "Don't get me started, I don't get a second to myself," he complained.

Hestia, seeing how the busy god was about to start a rant on how busy he was, quickly guided Harry away.

"Harry, this is Hephaestus," she introduced. "He's the God of Forges, Fire, Technology, Craftsmen, Sculptors, Volcanoes, and Blacksmiths. Hephaestus, this is Harry Potter."

Harry look up at the powerfully-built god, noticing the powerful muscles and the callused hands of a craftsman, yet completely ignoring the god's lame leg and malformed face. "Are you really the God of Blacksmiths?" the little boy asked, suddenly sounding excited. "Like forging weapons and armor and such?"

Hephaestus, halfway resigned to a comment about his appearance, grinned as the boy spoke. "All of that and more, young Harry," he said, grin widening.

"Hephaestus also builds a lot of machines and other devices," Hestia supplied, sounding proud. "He's the greatest inventor on Olympus."

"Whoa," Harry said, impressed. "That's awesome! Can you build robots and stuff, too? Like Robocop or Terminator?"

Hephaestus grinned. "They're called automatons, and I've built plenty of them. Robocop would need a mortal-"

He was interrupted by Zeus growling his name. Hephaestus went on as if his father hadn't spoken. "Unfortunately, we're not allowed to interfere in mortal lives so that's out. And while I could build a terminator, the way it can hide would wreak havoc with mortals. Too dangerous without a way to experiment safely."

"Whoa," Harry said again. "But still! Pounding metal on an anvil is cool!" He grinned, and pointed at the god. "You're my favorite god so far."

There were complaints from the other male gods, and Harry suddenly shrunk in on himself. He'd let his mouth get away from him, and now the others were going to be mad at him. He wished he hadn't said anything. Hestia gave the other male gods a look, making them retreat into silence – although it wasn't heartfelt.

Hephaestus, meanwhile, grinned. "Not a lot of people recognize the value of hard work these days. I'm glad to meet you, young Harry."

Harry gave the god a tentative smile, and gave a somewhat abashed look to the other male gods he had already met. It wasn't returned.

He sighed sadly. He'd liked the other gods, too, but… blacksmithing! And robots!

"Now, now," Hestia said. "Everyone has favorites. There's no need for hurt feelings."

The others grumbled slightly, but seemed to subside in their anger. "Good," the goddess of the heart said, her trademark smile back in place. "Come, Harry, let me introduce you to my oldest brother."

Harry gave another smile and wave to Hephaestus, and followed Hestia to the last throne on the male side of the room. He had deep black hair and equally black eyes, and as he sat up straight on his throne – which seemed temporary for some reason – he also seemed resigned about something.

"Harry, this is my oldest brother, Hades. He's the ruler of the Underworld, and God of the Dead and Riches. Hades, this is Harry Potter."

Harry stared at the god for a few moments. "That's so cool," he finally said.

The god in question looked surprised. Harry went on. "The Underworld sounds like something out a James Bond movie! It's awesome!"

Hades, still looking surprised, finally answered, "Thank you, Harry."

"Since you're God of the Dead, Mister Hades, does that mean you're god of zombies, skeletons, and ghosts, too?"

Hades nodded. "Yes, I am," he replied, surprised.

Harry turned to Hestia, smiling widely "Awesome!"

Hestia shook her head gently. Harry was a young boy, and like most young boys, he loved zombies and skeletons.

Harry didn't notice her shaking her head, and had turned back to the dark god. "How does it work, Mister Hades? When someone dies, do you bring them with you? Oh, and what about heaven and hell? Are they real?"

Hades smiled slightly, as if he weren't used to Harry's questions. "I have a god working for me who transports the spirits of the dead. His name is Charon."

Harry nodded. "He's a centaur, right?"

Hades laughed, as did plenty of other deities in the room. "That's a common mistake, Harry," Hades said. "It annoys Charon to no end, please feel free to remind him to his face should you ever see him."

"Hades," Hestia warned.

"Sorry, Hestia," the god of the underworld replied. "No, Harry, Charon is not a centaur. Chiron is the centaur you're thinking of; he's working at camp as a trainer. Charon is the bargeman. He collects the deceased spirits, and ferries them across the river Styx into the underworld. The spirit is then judged, based on the actions they have taken in their life. Good people go to the Elysian Fields; heaven, so to speak. The average people go to the Asphodel Fields. Bad people… are punished," he hesitated at seeing Hestia's warning look.

Harry just nodded. "That sounds cool," he said. "So you're basically taking care of people after they die? Make sure they're rewarded or punished, and make sure they're alright?"

Hades hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "That's an adequate description," he allowed.

"That's so cool," Harry repeated again. "Thanks for taking care of my mom and dad, Mister Hades!"

The god seemed surprised again. Harry thought that it was because not a lot of people would think about thanking him for taking care of their dead loved ones. Which is really sad, because it sounded like an important job.

"You're… welcome," Hades allowed, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was actually _being thanked_ for once. He had expected either fear or condemnation, not gratitude.

"Say, Mister Hades, when you say you punish bad spirits, what do you do? I mean, spirits are like ghosts, right? It's kinda hard to do anything to them. Unless you're the Ghostbusters."

Hades gave another short laugh. "Being a god, I can touch them just fine. And after they have been judged, they take on some form of physical body, so to speak, so they can be punished. Extensively. Depending on their crimes."

Harry nodded. "So bad people that get away with things here get punished after they die?"

Hades grinned. It was not a nice grin. In fact, it was a rather bloodthirsty grin. "Exactly, Harry," the god said.

Harry just kept nodding. "Hey, Mister Hades – Mister Hephaestus can't build terminators because he can't test them. How about he builds a terminator, sends it to you, and you can have your bad spirits fight them? That way, he can do testing, and you can punish bad spirits with something new."

Hades blinked, glanced to Hephaestus, who suddenly seemed interested in the conversation as well. "That could be interesting," the god of the underworld said. "It would take a few details to work out, but that could be an interesting punishment for some of my… guests."

"Can I watch?" Harry asked, causing laughter from some of the other gods. Ares especially seemed to approve.

"No!" Hestia interjected. Harry's shoulders slumped, and he turned to look at the Goddess of the Hearth, pouting. "You are too young to travel to the underworld, and I do not approve of that level of violence."

"But Hestia..." Harry wheedled.

"I really rather you didn't, Harry," Hestia said, standing firm.

Harry nodded, and turned to look at Hades. "Sorry, Mister Hades. I guess I'll have to wait and visit when I'm old."

Hades laughed. "Don't worry, Harry. The underworld will still be there. It's always good to listen to Hestia. We gods don't do that nearly enough."

Harry nodded in agreement, and gave his favorite goddess a hug. "Hestia's great," he said, before releasing her, making Hestia shake her head in amusement at him. Harry just went on. "You know, Mister Hades, I think you and Mister Hephaestus are both my favorite gods."

Hades blinked in surprise; mortals often had gods they especially aligned with, but this was the first time that a mortal had actually proclaimed him, Hades, Lord of the Underworld, as their 'favorite' god.

He glanced at Hephaestus. The God of the Forge was looking back at him. The two gods had never clashed or fought with each other, and shared a nod. They could live with sharing Harry's 'favorite god' title.

"Mister Hades?" Harry asked, focusing the god's attention back on him. "Do you know everyone who died? Like my mom and dad? _They_ said my parents were drunks, so I was wondering… you know..."

Hades seemed to soften, and stared intently at Harry. He then frowned when he seemed to realize something, and stared closer. "Harry, there are a few things I can tell you about your parents. They died as heroes. They went to Elysium. And then, something odd happened."

Harry blinked. "Odd how, Mister Hades?" he asked.

"One of them vanished," the god replied. "As if resurrected or stolen by another god. It is most peculiar. Unfortunately, my power is limited when it comes to the living, and so I can't determine more unless I were to know the spirits in question personally. I'll have to look into it."

"Oh," Harry said. Then he perked up. "They went to Elysium? That means they were good people, right?"

Hades gave a small smile. "They died a heroes' death, Harry. Take comfort from that."

The little boy just nodded, feeling his entire world turn upside down. Miss Hera had told him that his parents loved each other, and loved him, and now Mister Hades had told him they died a heroes' death and had gone to Elysium. Even if someone stole one of them later on.

Hestia smiled, and nudged him quietly. "Harry, you know you're a demigod. Gods don't die, so whoever your godly parent is, they would not have perished. The fact that they went to the underworld and went through judgement is very odd, however."

Harry blinked, not having made the connection until it was so blatantly spelled out for him. "So my godly parent, they're still alive?"

"And are ordered by the Ancient Laws not to raise you, or even interfere on a major level," Hestia admitted.

"Oh," Harry replied, the emotional rollercoaster going down.

Hades snapped his fingers. "That is it, sister," he said to Hestia. He looked at the young boy. "Harry, Your godly parent, be they your father or your mother, _aspected_ themselves. They created a mortal, stuffed some of their essence into it, and set it to live a mortal life. After that aspect died, it would have rejoined the original god or goddess. Some do it – immortality can get boring and this is one way of gaining new perspective."

Harry looked confused. "What does that mean, Mister Hades?"

Hades rubbed his chin, thinking how to best explain it. "You can think of it like a mortal clone of the god or goddess," Hestia explained instead. "After the clone dies, the memories it has gained will rejoin the god or goddess that created it. But, some of the essence of the original god or goddess is still in the clone, so any children they have will be demigods."

"Oh," Harry said. "So my mom and dad really were married, only mom or dad was a god?"

"Exactly," Hestia said, smiling, glad he understood.

"Then… why didn't… I mean… was there something wrong with me?"

Hestia felt like her heart was breaking. It was never easy when a neglected demigod found out they did, in fact, have a living parent. "No, Harry," she said, hugging him. "As Hades explained, there are laws. Ancient Laws that we are all bound to. Gods are forbidden from raising their children. A mortal aspect of a god is an exception. They are generally not aware they are, in fact, an aspect of a god, so they're not bound by those laws."

Harry just tried to wrap his head around everything that had been thrown at him. "So when mom… or dad… died..."

"They rejoined the original god or goddess, and were no longer mortal," Hestia explained gently.

"I wish I knew who it was," Harry said. "I don't even know if it's my mom or my dad."

"I'm sure you'll find out one day, Harry," Hestia said.

The boy just nodded, sadly. He wished he knew who his godly parent was, or even if it was his mother or father. He was able to pray to Hestia, so maybe he would be able to pray to them, too. Even if they couldn't talk back, it would be nice to talk to them.

Suddenly, he felt an urge. The same kind urge that had taken him to Olympus. It told him to scratch his scar. He hated when people stared at it, so he usually kept it hidden under his hair.

The urge had tried to protect him from the bad people that had wanted to do bad things to him; he hadn't listened to it then, and things had turned very bad for him. He had listened to it when it brought him through the Empire State building and onto Olympus, and that had turned out the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He decided to listen, and scratched at his scar.

Hades seemed to lean forward, and focused. Harry squirmed; this is why he kept his scar hidden.

"I hadn't noticed that scar," Hades said, intensely focused now.

"Neither had I, Hades," Hestia added, looking intently as well. Harry squirmed harder. He wished he could hide his scar again, but that feeling in his gut told him not to, that this was a good thing, that he should let the gods handle this.

Hades stood up, and shrunk at the same time. He stepped forward, and was suddenly in front of Harry, tall as a man but not tall as a god, leaning forward. "That scar," he said. "It is foul."

Harry blinked. "Like a chicken?"

Hestia smothered a laugh. "Foul as in disgusting, not fowl as in poultry," she explained gently, while some of the gods snickered around them.

Hades, meanwhile, had reached out, and trailed his thumb over it. "Do you know how you got this, Harry?" he asked, his voice incredibly intense. Harry swallowed, it was as if the air was growing thick again, making it hard to breathe.

"_They_ told me I got it in the crash that killed my parents, Mister Hades. But since my parents didn't die in a crash, I don't know."

Hades just nodded. "There is a piece of soul stuck in that scar. It is made with the blackest of mortal magics." The God of the Underworld was now leaning so close that Harry could smell his breath. "Brace yourself. I will remove it. It may be painful."

Harry gulped. "Ok, Mister Hades."

It felt like a knife of energy was driven into his skull. Harry grunted; the next moment, the pain was gone. He opened his eyes, and stared at a black ball of tar that seemed to rest in Hades' hand.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Hades spoke to the ball. "You have made your last mistake. Now that part of your soul is in my possession, I shall condemn you in your entirety."

The black tar vanished into mist, a howling scream of pain coming from it until it had dissipated completely.

"That one had been on my books for over 7 years," Hades said with a satisfied smile. He drew a breath, and seemed to relax. "It's good to finally close that one out."

"Can you explain, Hades?" Hestia asked gently, yet intently.

Hades' smile grew, and he stepped back to his throne, growing as he did so, and sat down. "Gladly, sister. Tom Marvolo Riddle was a Dark Lord in the British mortal magical community. He escaped his final judgment over seven years ago, apparently by splitting his soul and tying those pieces to the mortal world. For some reason, a piece of his soul became attached to Harry's scar. After removing it, I was able to bring his entire soul to judgment. He is now judged. And… _enjoying…_ my hospitality."

Hades smiled at Harry. "Harry, I believe that your parents perished while fighting this person. It would explain their deaths and your scar." He looked at Hestia. "Sister, you may wish to take him to see Hecate. If he is part of the mortal magical community, he may need some pointers."

"Magic, Mister Hades?" Harry asked.

Hestia smiled at him, before turning to look at the god of the underworld. "That may be a good idea, Hades," she said, before address Harry. "Yes, magic, Harry."

The little boy just nodded, as he always did when something didn't make sense to him.

"Come, Harry," Hestia said. "There are a few more people for you to meet."

"Okay, Hestia," Harry said, before turning to Hades. "Thanks for taking care of my scar, Mister Hades!"

Hades smiled back. It was very rare for a mortal to be kind to him, rather than fearful or angry. "You're welcome, Harry." His smile took on a dangerous tint. "It allowed me to close out an account that had been escaping me."

Harry gave Hades a final wave as he followed Hestia to the other side of the room.

"Harry, this is Dionysus, God of Wine, Parties, and Madness. Dionysus, this is Harry Potter."

The god gave a disinterested wave. "Yes, yes, hallo, Harmon."

Harry blinked, while Hestia gave the god a look of profound disappointment. "Dionysus doesn't like demigods," she explained to the boy.

"Oh," Harry said, quiet for a few moments. Finally, he said, sadly, "So that's why I never had a party. Or allowed to go to one. Or be invited to one. And why Uncle Vernon was always mad at me." Harry frowned. "He turned purple. It was ugly."

Dionysus' eyes narrowed, while there were mutters coming from the others gods. Hestia's hand squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Madness as 'insanity', not 'anger'," she explained. "And I'll deal with your lack of parties."

The heavy-set god of wine sat up straight. "Damn right we will. I have no love for demigods, but being denied even a basic celebration is a crime against my domain."

"Dionysus, language, please," Hestia admonished gently. "But thank you."

Dionysus grunted, and waved the comment off.

"Thank you, Mister Dionysus," Harry said, smiling widely. "I've never had a party, but I heard a lot of good things!"

The god just let out a grunt.

"You'll have to forgive Dionysus, Harry," Hestia said. "He has been punished by Zeus and has been forbidden from drinking alcohol."

"Oh," Harry said, looking up at the god. "That sucks, Mister Dionysus. Alcohol is great."

The god just nodded angrily, and huffed. Hestia, meanwhile, had turned to look at him. "Harry, you're too young for alcohol. Those people again?"

Harry shrugged. "Uncle Vernon said I might as well get a head start to be like my parents. I liked it. Made me feel tingly. And things didn't look so bad."

More muttering from the gods, but also a nod from the God of Wine.

"You won't be drinking alcohol until you're an adult," Hestia declared.

Harry looked at her for a few moments, and then nodded. "Sure. Ever since coming here, life's been great so I haven't needed it," he finally agreed.

The Goddess of the Hearth gave a satisfied nod. "Poor boy," Dionysus muttered at the same time.

"Dionysus," Hestia said again, once more showing her disappointment in the god.

The God of Wine grunted.

"Come, Harry, let me introduce you to some other people," the Goddess of the Hearth said, almost physically dragging Harry away from Dionysus. The boy found it odd; she hadn't actually done that with any of the other gods she had introduced him to. Even Mister Ares, and he had a potty mouth!

They stopped in front of the most beautiful woman harry had ever seen, whose features kept changing, but finally settled down on someone recognizable.

"Harry, this is Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty," Hestia introduced.

"Whoa, you're beautiful," Harry said, before realizing that it probably wasn't the smartest thing to say. He was about to apologize, when he heard Hestia laugh softly, and Aphrodite smiled widely.

"Thank you, Harry," the beautiful goddess said, and her voice sounded as beautiful as she looked.

"Aphrodite gets that reaction a lot," Hestia explained to Harry, who still felt rather mortified. "She looks like the one you love the most, times ten."

Harry looked at Hestia for a few moments, thinking through what she said and what it meant, before looking at Aphrodite again. "You look a bit like Hestia and Artie," he said. "But I don't know anyone with red hair."

Mutterings from the other gods caused Harry to look around, trying to figure out what he said that would cause them to do so.

When he looked back the goddess of love, she was still smiling. "If you truly see me with the features of Hestia and… Artie… then you must care for them very much," she said. There were some quiet laughs from some of the other gods.

Harry nodded eagerly. "Hestia's the best goddess ever." His comments drew exclamations from the other gods, but Harry ignored them. "Hestia found me, gave me clothes that fit, gave me food and drink, and has taught me a lot! And Artie's just awesome with a bow and knowing how to survive in the wild, and she's been teaching me a lot, too!"

Aphrodite was grinning widely, as if she had just found out a secret he wasn't supposed to tell. Hestia, meanwhile, turned to him. "I wish you wouldn't say those things, Harry. I helped you as any decent god or goddess would."

The room suddenly became very, _very_, quiet. Hestia looked around with a profoundly disappointed look on her face. Harry didn't notice. "You were the one who found me and helped me, and introduced me to Artie. That makes you the best goddess ever."

The humble Goddess of the Hearth didn't know how to answer that, and finally said, "I just wish you wouldn't say that."

Harry grinned at her. "I'll stop saying it if you stop being it," he offered. Before realizing what he had just said. "Please don't stop helped me," he begged, realizing what it could cost him if she took him up on it.

Hestia smiled softly at him. "It isn't in my nature to turn my back on people," she reassured him.

Relieved, he let out his breath. "Thanks, Hestia." He looked at Aphrodite, and mouthed, "_best goddess ever."_

Aphrodite giggled. Hestia gave him a look, showing that she had caught him. Harry desperately pretended to be innocent. Soft laughter came from some of the other gods.

Desperately trying to change the subject, Harry focused on Aphrodite and said, "I still don't know anyone with red hair, though."

She smiled gently at him. "Love goes back further and deeper than what you remember, Harry. You may not remember them, but deep down, you love your parents. Quite likely, one of them had red hair."

"Oh," Harry said, studying her for a few moments. "It's really pretty red hair. I wonder if it was mom or dad who had it."

"Thank you, Harry," Aphrodite said, with a wide smile. Her smile changed slightly, her face growing more serious. "The way you were raised, without love or affection, is an affront to my domain." She made a vague motion with one of her hands. "I will make sure that this doesn't repeat."

Harry smiled. He didn't really understand what the goddess of love was telling him, but he thought it meant that Hestia would never leave him. That part he liked. "Thanks, Miss Aphrodite!"

The goddess graced him with another blinding smile. "You're most welcome, cutie!"

Harry returned the smile.

Realizing the conversation between Aphrodite and Harry was over; Hestia put her hand on Harry's elbow. "Come, Harry. We've almost completed the introductions," she said, guiding him away, but giving the goddess of love a grateful smile as she did so. Aphrodite just grinned.

"I'm sure you know Artemis," Hestia said, walking to the throne of the next goddess, and making to pass her. Harry studied the goddess, and frowned slightly.

"You look like Artie's mom," Harry told the goddess as Hestia was guiding them passed her throne. Artemis, who had been scowling, suddenly blinked, obviously not having expected Harry to talk to her.

It seemed she didn't know what to say, and so Hestia stopped, and stared at Harry for a few moments. "Harry," the goddess of the hearth said, "Do you remember how I had a godly adult form a few moments ago?"

Harry frowned slightly. "I… don't think so?" he finally admitted.

Hestia nodded, as if realizing something. "You must not have realized it due to your panic," she explained. "Gods have a mortal form, and a godly form." She suddenly looked three meters tall, and looked like a more mature version of herself. If Harry hadn't seen her change, he would have thought she was her mother, instead.

"So," Harry said, suddenly realizing what she was trying to say and turning to the throne he was in front of. "You're Artie?" There was more snickering from the other gods, and Harry frowned at them. He still didn't know what was so funny.

"Her full name is Artemis," Hestia explained.

"Oh," he muttered, finally realizing why everyone was snickering. "I thought your name was Artie," he told the goddess. "That was how Hestia introduced us."

Artemis sighed. "It was an annoyance at first, but I realized you meant no offense."

"Come, Harry," Hestia said. "We shouldn't take up more of Artemis' time." The goddess of the hunt seemed to sigh and flinch at the same time.

Harry, meanwhile, stared at Hestia. "I thought you called her Artie?"

Hestia sighed in turn. "Artie is the name of a niece I love very much; Artemis is the name of a goddess who would allow a mortal to suffer in her presence, despite him praying to her, for no other reason than the fact that he is male."

Harry blinked, opened his mouth, and closed it, unable to form any kind of response.

"Aunt Hestia," Artie said, mournfully.

"We shall talk later, Artemis. I'm sure you're quite busy, and I wouldn't want to keep you any longer than necessary," the Goddess of the Hearth said. There were whispers from the other gods. Artemis looked like she had been slapped.

Harry looked from one to the other. Finally, he sighed. "It's alright, Hestia," he said. "I'm not angry at Artie." He turned to face said goddess, walked up to her, and patted her knee, the way he had done with some of the other gods. There seemed to have been some kind of suspense among the other gods, as there was a collective release of breath when he finished and nothing happened. Harry ignored them; gods seemed to like theatrics and so far nothing bad had happened to him after Hestia had rescued him.

"I understand why you didn't help me, Artie," he told the Goddess of the Hunt. "If you had helped me, everyone would have turned on you, and you didn't want to risk it. It's alright, I had people in school too, who were nice to me in private but didn't help me in public. They were afraid, too." He sighed. "I understand, really."

Artie seemed to be at a loss for words, and it was Hestia who spoke first. "You are a kind soul, Harry," she said. "I would have forgiven her, but you don't even seem angry."

Harry sighed again. "It's not the first time this happened," he said, quietly. "Not everyone is like you. I mean. Nobody's like you; you're the first who ever stood up for me. And Artie's still awesome."

It seemed that the goddess of the hunt was shrinking with each word he said, without actually physically reducing in size.

"And yet," the Goddess of the Hunt finally spoke, "Aunt Hestia is correct. I should have spoken up. I did not. It was easier to keep quiet and go along with the proceedings rather than speak up and risk anger being pointed my way." She drew a deep breath and released it. "It was not correct of me. I will endeavor to be better in the future."

Hestia noted how the goddess carefully avoided saying she was 'wrong', and how she avoided issuing an actual apology. She was about say something, when Harry smiled at the goddess of the hunt, and spoke, "Thanks, Artie!" he quieted slightly, and asked, "Will you still teach me things?"

Artie studied him for a moment or two before coming to an apparent decision. "Depending on how things proceed, I may have a way to teach you more."

Harry's excitement rose. "Really? That's so cool! Thanks, Artie!"

The Goddess of the Hunt offered a small yet genuine smile. "You're welcome, Harry," she said.

"Artie, we will still talk," Hestia said, yet offered a smile to the goddess nonetheless.

"Of course, Aunt Hestia," Artemis said, offering a tentative and hopeful smile to her aunt.

Hestia just nodded once, as if in acknowledgement, and guided Harry to the last remaining goddess in the room.

"Harry, this is Athena, Goddess of Wisdom, Battle Strategy, Arts and Crafts, and Law and Justice. Athena, this is Harry Potter."

Harry offered this latest goddess a tentative smile. "Hello Miss Athena," he said, not at all comfortable with how the goddess' piercing grey eyes seemed to stare into the depths of his soul. She looked intimidating, but also gave the supreme notion that she did not like him.

She just nodded. "Demigod," she said with the tiniest dip of her head, as if it were a greeting. Harry figured it probably was.

"Athena," Hestia said with disappointment. She turned to Harry. "Being the Goddess of Law and Justice, your presence here on Olympus rankles."

Harry nodded. "I didn't know I shouldn't be here, Miss Athena," Harry said. "I had a feeling, and followed that feeling until it got me to Mister Helios' temple. It felt like _their_ house, but when I asked Mister Helios if I could stay in return for cleaning up his temple, it felt really warm and safe. Hestia said it felt like a home, and that it meant Mister Helios decided I could stay."

Athena's eyes narrowed, then glanced at Hestia, who confirmed the tale with a nod. "So you claim to have felt Helios' presence? A god that faded over two millennia ago?"

Harry shrugged. "I think so, Miss Athena," he said. "He ate half my bread, too. And when I make too much food, I leave some for him on the altar, and he eats that, too. I've never seen him, other than his statue. I guess he's a ghost. Maybe Mister Hades could see him."

"I see," the Goddess of Wisdom said, settling into her throne. "So you are, in effect, _renting_ Helios' temple?"

"I… guess?" Harry answered, not having considered that angle.

Zeus, it seemed, had come to the end of his patience. "That is all very well and good, but he still should not be here, on Olympus, in the Realm of the Gods. We were debating his punishment, and I for one, still vote for an immediate execution."

Harry swallowed, and tried to hide behind Hestia.

The King of the Gods pushed on. "Does anyone else have anything to add?"

Hestia just smiled reassuringly at Harry, then turned to her youngest brother. "Squatter's rights," she said.

**AN: this is far as my pre-written chapters go; from here on out, I'm publishing chapters as I write and edit them.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 4**

Hestia just smiled reassuringly at Harry, and then turned to her youngest brother. "Squatter's rights," she said.

Pandemonium broke out among the gods, and Harry, still not liking loud noises, swallowed deeply and hid himself behind his favorite goddess.

"Please do not yell," Hestia said, still sounding calm, yet somehow able to project her voice above the noise.

The sound level dropped. Silence descended.

"You can _not_ be serious, Hestia," Zeus finally said.

The Goddess of the Hearth graced her youngest brother with a smile. "I am completely serious, Zeus," she said. "Harry has been living in an abandoned building for close to six months now. That confers him certain rights, even among us."

Zeus seemed flummoxed at how to respond. Instead, it was Athena who answered. "However, he just admitted that he is in contact with Helios, which makes the temple not abandoned after all."

Hestia turned her smile to the Goddess of Wisdom. "In which case, Helios is still around and has offered shelter to Harry. That would make this a case of Temple Asylum."

Zeus shook his head. "It doesn't matter. We can not allow a mortal to stay on Olympus. He can go to Camp half-Blood, like all the other young demigods."

"That would be the preferred solution," Athena said, backing up her father.

Harry looked at Hestia. "That's the camp you're looking after, right?" he asked her.

Hestia nodded. "Yes, it is, Harry. It is very nice and has many activities that you may enjoy. It's definitely an option if you wish to do so. However, after the life you've had, and the hardships you've had, I don't think you would enjoy it for long."

Harry frowned slightly. "Why not?" he asked, curious.

"Because once there, you're not allowed to leave unless it's for a quest. Also, with your lack of trust in authority figures, I do not believe you would enjoy the atmosphere."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Being locked up somewhere held no appeal to him – and being forced to do what someone else told him to do reminded him of the Dursleys. He had freedom now; he didn't want to lose it.

Zeus was glaring at him now. Harry halfway hid behind Hestia. The god reminded him so much of Uncle Vernon now. He looked like he expected everyone to just do as he said. Harry didn't like him.

"Also, Harry, since your godly parent has not yet been determined, you would be staying in Hermes' cabin. As God of the Travelers, he welcomes everyone into his cabin."

Harry nodded slightly, then turned to the god in question. "Thank you, Mister Hermes!"

Hermes waved back. "No problem, Harry."

The young boy turned to look at Hestia. "Why couldn't I stay in your cabin, though, Hestia?"

Hestia just gave him a smile. "Because I do not have a cabin at camp, Harry. I don't need one; I have no children."

Harry gaped at her, as if she had just said the sky was purple with yellow dots instead of blue. "What?" he asked, struck dumb.

"Just send the boy to camp. We have more important things to do," Zeus snapped.

"I am not going to a camp that doesn't have a cabin for Hestia," Harry said, stepping out from behind the goddess in question, and crossing his arms.

Zeus' glare intensified, but before he could say anything, Poseidon interjected. "I understand how you feel, Harry. In many ways, Hestia is the best of us. She is kind, gentle, and supportive. It is why all of us gods like and love her. However, as she has said, she is a virgin goddess. She had no children, and therefore, she has no need of a cabin at camp."

"Artie doesn't have children either," Harry said.

Artemis choked in surprise, and looked like she wanted to somewhere else right now. Apollo started laughing. Hermes joined in.

"Artemis has her Hunters," Zeus snapped.

It was Harry's turn to look flummoxed. He recalled that book on the Greek gods that Hestia had given him, his mind going over what he knew of these gods. Athena was supposedly a virgin goddess as well, but she had many children throughout history, so she probably had a cabin. Wait a minute…

"Miss Hera doesn't have demigod children either," Harry suddenly spoke out loud. "Does she have a cabin?"

Silence descended among the gods, everyone looking at everyone else. Hestia smiled widely at him, looking proud at him figuring that out.

"That's… a rather good point," Poseidon said finally.

"That cabin is ceremonial!" Zeus thundered. As God of Thunder, he was very good at it, and Harry jumped in surprise.

"Yours is supposed to be, too," Hera said on a deceptively level tone. The god sunk in his throne and tried to look small.

Harry just nodded. "I don't want to go to a camp that doesn't have a cabin for Hestia," he repeated. "She's the best goddess ever." Hestia looked uncomfortable with the praise, and the gods sent wary looks at each other.

"While I appreciate the comment, I do not need a cabin, Harry," Hestia spoke, kindly. "As I said, I don't think you would enjoy the experience anyway, not before I am able to help correct some of the damage done to you by _those_ people, anyway."

Harry just smiled at her. The Goddess of the Hearth turned back to Zeus. "Since he does not wish to go, Harry isn't going to camp. He has been granted Temple Sanctuary by Helios."

Zeus growled. "That does not matter!" he said again, turning back to his original argument.

"So you would break the age old laws of Temple Sanctuary?" Hestia asked, kindly. Deceptively kindly.

The King of the Gods frowned and his eyes narrowed. "He is not in the temple right now."

"Only because you had the guards drag him out of it," Hestia replied. "Which, in itself, is a breach of Temple Sanctuary."

"Aunt Hestia is right, Father," Athena admitted, sounding as if she didn't like doing so. "If we accept that part of Helios is still around, then he has clearly granted sanctuary to this boy. If we do not accept Helios' presence, then the boy has been living in an abandoned temple, without challenge, for long enough to lay claim to it."

Zeus frowned deeper, thinking deeply.

"Oh, just let the boy stay, Zeus," Hera said. "He's been here six months already and hasn't caused any problems or issues. I don't see the point of this argument. Either he owns the temple, or he has been offered shelter in it. Either case, he has legal standing to stay."

Zeus crossed his arms. "I do not _want_ him to stay. It sets a bad precedent. I say to remove him, preferably to camp, but anywhere will do."

"Unfortunately, even the gods must follow the law, Father," Athena stated. As Goddess of Law and Justice, this fell under her domain.

Zeus grumbled; unfortunately, justice was one of his domains as well. As a God of Justice, he wasn't allowed to be unfair. He crossed his arms, clearly displeased. "Fine. Let him stay, then. On your heads be it – I never want to see him again."

"Thank you, Zeus," Hestia said, gracing him with a large smile. The irritated King of the Gods sighed and seemed to relax at that smile, before waving them off.

"Yes, yes. Begone."

Harry couldn't leave that room quickly enough. Hestia took her time, smiling at her extended family members.

The moment those huge double doors fell shut behind them, Harry turned and grabbed Hestia in the tightest hug he had ever given someone.

"You helped me," he whispered, continuing to hold her.

Hestia just hugged him back. "Of course I did, Harry. I heard your call. Of course I came."

The young boy finally relaxed. "Nobody else ever helped me," he whispered. "You're the first one who ever stood up for me."

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, feeling that familiar sensation in her heart.

They remained silent for quite a while, the Goddess of the Hearth providing reassurance to the young boy.

Finally, they broke the hug. "Come on, Harry. Let's go to the temple, now that you've been allowed to stay."

Harry nodded, and walked next to her. He was closer than usual, still jittery from what had happened, and not really wanting to trust that he wasn't about to be grabbed again. People in authority had let him down way too often. He trusted Hestia. Hestia would protect him, she'd proven that.

Now that he was starting to relax, his body shedding the excess stress hormones that had been flooding it, his normal biological functions slowly started to come back.

In other words, he suddenly realized that he was hungry. He looked at Hestia. "Can we cook something?" he asked, tentatively, halfway expecting her to say no. She had done so much for him already, after all.

The Goddess of the Hearth smiled back at him. "Of course we can, Harry," she said. "You're a growing boy so we have to make sure you get plenty to eat."

Harry smiled back at her. Cooking with Hestia was a lot more fun that cooking by himself, he always learned so much from her! Somehow, the stuff she cooked always tasted better than when he tried to cook it for himself.

That was probably because she was a goddess, he realized. Artie had gotten testy about her being better with a bow, so maybe Hestia was the same way with cooking. He wasn't about to make the same mistake he'd made with Artie and say anything out loud; he'd just watch and learn whenever he had a chance.

They walked in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Finally, they arrived at Helios' temple, and Harry pushed the doors open.

"Hi, Mister Helios! I'm back!" he said, loudly, to the imposing statue. The sensation of Helios' presence seemed reassuring and protective. "Hestia helped me!" Harry went on. "She stood up for me to the other gods, and they're going to let me stay!"

The presence that was Helios seemed part reassuring and part apologetic, as if sorry that it wasn't able to do more.

Harry patted the statue's foot, still the only part that he was able to reach comfortably. "That's alright, Mister Helios. Like I said, Hestia stood up for me. She's the first ever who stood up for me!"

Hestia looked slightly uncomfortable, but Helios' presence radiated gratitude to her, and she offered a smile to the statue. "You're quite welcome," she offered, and Harry didn't know whether that was to him, or to Helios.

"Hestia and I are going to cook," Harry told the statue. "I'll be sure to leave you your share!"

For a moment, it felt like Helios' presence hugged him, before receding.

Hestia offered him a smile and held out her hand. "Come, Harry, let's see what's in the kitchen for us to work with."

"Okay, Hestia!" Harry said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the kitchen. As they passed through the living area, Harry saw the fire in the hearth, and suddenly remembered something he was curious about. He looked at her as they walked. "Hestia?"

"Yes, Harry?" the kindhearted goddess answered patiently.

"Why do we always travel through fire? I know you can teleport by yourself, so why do you always use fire when I'm with you?"

Hestia's smile turned into a small grin. "Divine teleportation is not suitable for non-gods," she explained. "If you even survived, it would be exceedingly painful. Traveling through fire is something that any mortal or demigod can do with the right tools." She released his hand, and touched his shoulder. "How about, after dinner, I show you how to do it by yourself? I'll even show you some other things, if you want," she offered.

Harry thought she sounded tentative. Did she think he would say no? Who would say no to learning how to travel by fire? Or other things that the Goddess of the Hearth wanted to teach?

"That'd be great, Hestia!" Harry shouted, excited.

Hestia smiled back at his exuberance, and unbeknownst to Harry, offered a minor boon through her contact with his shoulder. It wasn't much, but Harry would probably be pleased with it; the ability to travel through fire and take someone with him, the ability to start a minor fire when fuel was available for it, and a minor ability for fire-gazing. It would help him with the lessons she was planning to give him.

For now, she had promised to cook with him, and she always enjoyed cooking with other people.

00000

"Thank you for taking me to the beach and teaching me to swim, Mister Poseidon!" Harry said excitedly. He hesitated for just a moment, then stepped in and gave the God of the Seas a big hug.

Poseidon, to his credit, hugged the boy back despite his surprise at the hug. "You're quite welcome, Harry," the much-mellowed god replied. Poseidon knew himself and his history well enough to remember that there had been a time he wouldn't have bothered teaching a young mortal how to sim, let alone allow said boy to hug him.

Harry stepped away, smiling widely. Poseidon grinned back; he could start to understand what Hestia saw in the boy, and why she was helping him. For once, he was confronted by a mortal who didn't just bow and scrape, afraid of retribution. Instead, he was being treated like a normal living being; rather than as an angry weapon about to go off. It was quite liberating, and Poseidon reminded himself that he should do things like this more often.

Harry waved as the god stepped into the sea and disappeared. Still grinning, imitating many children that came before him, the small boy hopped over the tiny waves that lapped at the shoreline, laughing loudly as he did so.

Sure, he knew how to swim now, but jumping waves was _fun_.

Part of him regretted that Mister Poseidon had to leave. Harry understood, though. As God of the Sea, Poseidon was quite busy. He just wished he could spend more time with the god; he'd been great fun and a great teacher.

Jumping away from a small wave, as if afraid that it would catch him, Harry walked up the beach. It was time for him to get back to the temple; he had some cooking to do. Hopefully, Hestia would drop by so he could tell her of the exciting afternoon he'd had.

Finding some driftwood, Harry gathered quite a small pile, and dug a pit in the loose sand. Putting the twigs and branches of driftwood in the pit, he used the skill that Hestia had taught him to light it on fire. The pit would protect it against the wind, and prevent the fire from spreading.

Once the branches had caught on fire, Harry waved his hand. "Harry Potter lives in Mister Helios' Temple," he told the fire. It turned green at his command, and Harry stepped through, immediately arriving in the fireplace of the temple.

He stepped out of the fireplace, turned, and watched the fire turn back to its normal yellow-orange-red colors. He focused for a moment, and found the fire on the beach he had just left. Reaching out with the abilities Hestia had taught him, Harry turned the fire off. There was no sense in letting it burn and cause potential issues, even if he _had_ dug a small fire pit and it was on a beach with nothing but sand.

After changing out of his swimming trunks and into his regular clothes, Harry made his way to the kitchen. Reaching his destination, Harry took out Hestia's recipe book, and flipped through it, trying to determine what he would make for dinner.

Half an hour later, Harry was watching the lasagna bake in his oven. Having become highly attuned to fire ever since Hestia taught him how to make fire and travel through it, Harry heard his hearth flare up.

He turned away from the baking lasagna and stood up.

"Hi Hestia!" he greeted, giving his favorite goddess a welcome hug. She hugged him back.

"Hello, Harry," the kind Goddess of the Hearth greeted him back. "How was your afternoon at the beach?"

"It was great!" the young boy enthused. "Mister Poseidon was great, and he taught me to swim in the sea, and he told me that I could go and visit the beach any time I wanted!"

Hestia smiled and listened as Harry told her about his visit to the beach. She hid the fact that she felt sad about how enthusiastic Harry was over a simple visit to the beach, and about how he had been given _permission_ to visit the beach whenever he wanted.

There were times she thought that had curse on the Dursleys hadn't been strong enough. Then she remembered Hermes' advice, and cursing their situation was about the best she could do. Fire would never warm them and no home would ever shelter or protect them. They would be cold and paranoid for the rest of their lives.

Hopefully, anyway.

"So I made lasagna," Harry finished his tale. He checked the oven. "It should be done in another 20 minutes or so. Would you like some?"

Hestia smiled, banishing her darker thoughts. "I would love some," she said. It wasn't often that she had the time to join Harry for a meal, but she loved doing so when she was able. Being the Goddess of the Home, there was nothing homelier for her than to share a good meal.

Noticing the recipe book still open on the counter, she idly flipped through it while the lasagna baked. "Artie came to see me earlier," she said.

"Oh?" Harry asked, his focus on the oven again. "I haven't seen her since Mister Zeus wanted to kick me out."

"I know," Hestia said, smiling gently at the little boy – not that he noticed, his focus still on his food. "She is feeling rather embarrassed about what happened. Not that she will ever admit that out loud. My family can be rather proud, and admitting mistakes does not come easily to them."

Harry nodded. "That's ok. I understand why she didn't help me."

"She wants to make it up to you, though. Again, not that she will admit it out loud," Hestia said with a small laugh. "She came to see me to ask my advice. She wants to take you to the camp of her Hunters. As she's quite busy, she doesn't have a lot of time to teach you, so bringing you to her Hunters would allow for her lieutenant, Zoë Nightshade, to teach you for longer periods of time."

Harry looked at Hestia. "Really?" he asked, excitedly.

Hestia's smile widened. "Really," she confirmed. "Be careful, though – Artie's Hunters like boys even less than she does. Zoë is better than most, but she still won't be the most supportive of teachers. I suspect that, rather like Artie herself, you'll need to win her trust."

Harry nodded. He didn't think Artie was that bad. She hadn't yelled at him – much – and didn't say nasty things to him. Not often, anyway. Not after learning that she could take the silliest things as a challenge and get angry over them. He liked her as a teacher; she was awesome.

"What's she like?" Harry asked.

"Zoë?" Hestia asked, getting a confirming nod from Harry. "She's utterly loyal to Artie. She is also very experienced – she was one of the first of Artie's Hunters, and is still with her. She is extremely good at what she does, she's strong, and she's steadfast. A bit stubborn, but then again, to be the best at what you do, you need a bit of stubbornness."

The Goddess of the Hearth stopped flipping through the book at a certain page. "She also has a bit of a sweet tooth, so making some of these would help," she finished, pointing to the page. Harry walked over and looked at the recipe Hestia had selected. It was for simple chocolate-chip cookies. Hestia-style, of course, with a few added ingredients to reinforce certain flavors.

There was a reason her desserts were highly prized on Olympus.

"I can make those," Harry said, grinning.

Hestia just smiled, when the timer dinged. Harry grabbed the oven mitts and started taking the hot pan out of the oven. Not even thinking about asking for help, the young boy served his guest and himself.

When they were sat at the table, eating, Harry looked up from his food. "Is there anything else I should know about the Hunters?" he asked Hestia.

The goddess shook her head. "Just remember to remain polite. Some of them really do hate all men, so you may hear some nasty things. Just remain polite. Zoë herself will be cool and standoffish, like Artie, but she will remain polite as long as you do the same. It would be a command from Artie, after all, and Zoë Nightshade will always do what she can to fulfill Artie's requests."

Harry just nodded. "Okay, Hestia."

The Goddess of the Hearth smiled. "I'm glad to hear you're being adult about things, Harry. I'll inform Artie you're interested in the arrangement."

"Thanks, Hestia," Harry said, smiling. He was looking forward to meeting Artie's Hunters – from what she had said, they were awesome.

They finished their meal, and Harry moved to put everything in the sink. Hestia waved her hand instead, cleaning up all the used implements and utensils.

"Whoa," Harry breathed, impressed.

Hestia laughed softly. "You cooked, so it is only right that I do the dishes," she teased. "I should go; I have a duty to maintain the fire at Camp Half-Blood."

Harry nodded. "Okay. Have fun, Hestia," he said. He watched her walk to the living area, then hurried after her. "Would they really keep me locked up?" he asked before she could disappear into the fire.

She smiled gently at him. "It wouldn't really be imprisonment, but yes, for the safety of the campers, the rules state that one can't leave without clear permission. Demigods get attacked by monsters, you see. It's for their own protection. However, do to your life; you would struggle with the lack of freedom. At least, until I can help you heal a bit more."

Harry nodded gratefully. Knowing that the camp she loved wasn't a prison but more like a boarding school, helped. Not that he wanted to stay there, mind you. He wanted to be able to walk away when things didn't work out. He mistrusted people in charge. Even here, at Olympus, he could simply pack a bag and walk out. He didn't want that safety net taken away from him.

He returned to the kitchen, scooped up a portion of lasagna, and walked to the statue of Helios. "I hope you like lasagna, Mister Helios," the young boy said, putting the plate on the altar.

00000

The next morning, Harry collected the empty plate from the altar, shot the statue a grateful smile as Helios obviously liked the food, and went back to the kitchen to make cookies.

But first, breakfast.

After breaking his fast, Harry took out the recipe Hestia had recommended, studied it, and then started his preparations.

After completing his batter, he tasted it.

Harry studied it for a few moments. He then went to his cupboard, took out a chunk of raw ambrosia, and cut off a small piece. Grinding it into a fine powder, he folded it into the batter.

He tasted it again. "Good, good," he muttered to himself. Taking out a baking tray, he measured dollops of the batter onto the plate, before sprinkling chocolate chips on top and sliding it into the oven.

After the cookies finished baking, and letting them cool, he tasted one. It was gooey and chocolate-y, and he contemplated having a second.

Knowing himself, Harry stopped himself. If he didn't, he'd eat all of them.

Whistling randomly to himself, Harry dolloped the remaining batter onto a new tray, sprinkled the last of the chocolate chips on top, and set them to bake. He'd seriously misjudged the amount of batter he made, and so he'd turned out a lot more cookies than he had expected.

After his second batch cooled, he tried one of them. They were slightly more set, his timing must have been a bit off. They were more firm, but just as chocolate-y as the first batch. The minuscule amount of Ambrosia powder really brought out the flavors of the cookie.

He'd have to talk with Hestia about this, he wondered why her recipe didn't include the ambrosia to really kick up the flavor. There must be a reason for it.

Harry put the cooled cookies into a Tupperware container to keep them fresh, and set out to clean the utensils he had used making the cookies.

He was still humming and whistling random notes when he was scrubbing out the batter bowl, becoming aware that he was no longer alone in the kitchen.

He looked over his shoulder, and saw Artie stride up. He gave his second-favorite goddess a big smile. "Hi Artie!" he greeted, pulling his hands out of the soapy water, and drying them off.

"Harry," Artie said back. Was it Harry's imagination or did she sound apprehensive?

His hands now dry, he turned and gave her a hug. She tensed for a moment, and then hugged him back.

Releasing the goddess, Harry turned back to his sink. "I'm just finishing up the dishes, Artie. I spent a bit more time baking than I expected."

Artie approached. "You were baking?" she asked in confirmation.

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Yup. It's a surprise." Suddenly, he _flipped_ around, and extended a hand. "So don't touch!" he admonished as the Goddess of the Hunt had been about to open the Tupperware container. For a moment, she looked guilty, before seemingly realizing that _she_ was the goddess and _he_ was the mortal.

Drawing herself up, she was about to reply, when Harry turned back to his dishes. "I'll tell Hestia. And then you won't get any."

Artie froze in indecision, then sighed. "It rankles that a boy is daring to give me orders," she said angrily.

Harry smiled at her over his shoulder. "I'm just asking nicely, Artie. I spent a lot of effort on those, and they're a surprise."

The Goddess of the Hunt eyed him, and Harry felt a bead of sweat pearl down his forehead. Artie could get really angry over the strangest things, and Harry worried that he had done something silly. Maybe he should have just given her the cookies? But then he wouldn't have any for Miss Zoë, who was going to be his new teacher. Hestia had recommended the cookies for her specifically, hadn't she?

"Fine," Artie finally said; her tone was rather cool, Harry thought, but he'd take it. "It's a rare man who dares tell me what to do, and doesn't feel worried about it when I voice my displeasure."

Harry swallowed. "I was worried," he said. "You get really angry sometimes, and I don't want you getting angry. You're still my friend, after all."

Artie was still studying him; her intense silver-grey eyes seemingly string into his very soul. Harry didn't like it much when she stared at hard at him. Her gaze felt _heavy_.

"Oh?" she finally said.

Harry nodded, drying off the utensils he had just finished rinsing. "Yup. You're awesome, you teach me loads of things, and I like you. So you're my friend. Even if I know I probably am not your friend." He looked up from his drying. "Do you want me to keep that quiet in public?"

Artie's gaze seemed to intensify, if that were even possible. "What is it you're asking?" she demanded, a current in her voice that sounded dangerous.

Harry swallowed, and focused on his drying so he didn't have to look at the angrily staring Goddess of the Hunt. "I-I mean," the boy started stammering, then collected himself. "You may not want people to know we get along. So you may want to act like we don't know each other in public."

Artie was quiet, and for the first time, Harry realized why Hestia had called her _Artemis_ instead of _Artie_ in that huge meeting room. Artie was his friend who taught him things. Artemis was the goddess who hated boys and wanted nothing to do with him. He'd have to keep the two separate.

"No," she finally said. "No, I do not need you to keep quiet about our arrangement. There is no need for… _discretion_. We have a perfectly normal teacher-student relationship. There is no need to hide that fact."

She approached. Harry wasn't watching her, but he _felt_ her coming closer. "It is most unusual that you would consider me a friend, especially after recent events."

Harry hesitated, not sure what to say. "You're awesome, Artie," Harry said. "And you're a really good teacher. And I like you. Well – mostly. I don't like it when you get angry at me. But you know what I mean."

Artie studied him closer, and then nodded. "I would not get angry at you if you didn't say stupid boy things."

Harry offered her a tentative smile, looking at her for the first time in a while. "Sorry?"

"My offer to turn you into a girl still stands," Artie said, grinning. Harry relaxed. Grinning Artie was Friendly Artie. He liked Friendly Artie.

Harry smiled back. "Only if you let me turn back into a boy if I don't like it," he replied.

The Goddess of the Hunt shook her head. "Come on," she said, and started to walk out. Harry grinned, raced to get his box of cookies and his notebook, and finally followed her. Once again, he got to ride in her chariot with those cool golden deer.

They remained silent for the trip, and Harry enjoyed the time flying through the sky, gazing at the ground below.

As they circled in for a landing at a large clearing in the middle of some forest Harry didn't know, the goddess turned to him.

"One piece of advice," she said, on the exact same tone that she always used when teaching him something _really_ important. "Not all people enjoy hugging. You seem to enjoy the practice; I would advise against trying to hug one of my Hunters."

Harry swallowed. "Alright, Artie," he said, quickly. "Hestia told me to be polite, I guess not hugging is part of that, then."

Artie nodded once, sharply. "If you do, I will be forced to curse what is left of you, and I do not want to deal with the lecture Aunt Hestia would give me."

Harry frowned, not understanding her statement. "What do you mean, Artie?"

The goddess aimed the chariot for the landing spot she was eyeing. "If you try to hug one of my Hunters, two things will happen. One, the Hunter in question will hurt you. Severely. If you survive, I, as Goddess of Maidens, will be forced to curse your remains. Aunt Hestia would be… most displeased… with that course of events."

"Oh," the young boy said, feeling his palms sweat.

"Yes. Oh," Artie confirmed, injecting just a small note of teasing into her tone.

"Hestia said that your Hunters hate boys. Do they all really hate boys that badly?" he wondered tentatively, as the chariot touched down.

Artie seemed amused by the question, rather than upset. "Some more than others, but you will be safer if you assume they all do," she answered. "I am very protective of my Hunters, and most of them have been hurt very badly by males."

She stepped out of the chariot, and turned to look at him. "What you said during the solstice meeting calmed Aunt Hestia and saved me from being on her bad side. This has earned you a favor, which is why I am even bringing you here. I do not have the time to teach you properly, and I am trusting you to remain the studious student that I have grown to know."

"Thanks, Artie," Harry said, finally climbing out of the chariot himself. "I won't let you down. Hestia told me a bit about what Miss Zoë is like, so I'm sure I'll like her."

Artie stared at him for a bit. "It amazes me to hear a boy say those words," she said, amused.

Harry grinned back. "I like you, too, Artie, and from what Hestia has said, that's strange, too."

The Goddess of the Hunt shook her head in amusement. "This way," she said, striding off and expecting him to follow.

Used to the way she would sometimes issue short commands, Harry followed her into the camp. It was arranged in a circle, with identical tents surrounding a campfire. He smiled at the sight of the fire; fires had started setting him at ease ever since Hestia had taught him some of her skills.

Harry flinched when he noticed that a dozen large, white, wolves were circling the tents. The animals eyed him as if he were food.

One of the Hunters was feeding a treat to one of the wolves, but stopped when she noticed him. In fact, every Hunter that noticed him, stopped and stared. Some of them stared angrily, too.

One Hunter seemed to suddenly have a bow in her hands. Harry blinked, not having seen where she had been keeping the weapon, but when the Hunter started raising it, he took two quick steps to be closer to Artie.

He resisted the urge to grab her hand and hide; Artie wasn't Hestia and after the talk they just had regarding hugging, he didn't think Artie would take kindly to the action.

Even though he desperately wanted to. He looked back. The Hunter no longer had her bow out and was just grinning at him now. He sighed in relief. So he'd fallen for her trick. At least she hadn't really wanted to shoot him.

"Phoebe has a lot of problems with boys and men," Artie said, apparently having seen what happened without actually looking. "If you keep away from her, there shouldn't be an issue."

"Okay, Artie," Harry said, looking over his shoulder at the Hunter called _Phoebe_, who was now seemingly talking animatedly with the Hunter next to her. Whatever it was she was saying must have been important, as there was lots of hand-waving going on.

Harry turned back to focus on Artie and watch where he was going. It wouldn't do to bump into her, not here. Harry was really starting to doubt this arrangement. The Hunters really did seem to hate him, not like Artie, who was just cool and standoffish, but in a very real 'I will hurt you' kind of way.

"Here we are," Artie said, pulling the flap back on a tent that looked just like all the others, and stepped inside. Harry hurried after her.

Artie stepped up to the middle of the tent, which appeared to be far larger on the inside, and sat down next to the Hunter that was already present. Harry looked around, curious. The tent was warm and comfortable, with silk rugs and pillows covering the floor. In the center, a golden brazier was burning without smoke. Harry smiled at it, grateful for its presence.

Behind Artie stood a polished oak display case, holding the silver bow he had seen when she had split his arrow. This time, he got a closer look at it, and noticed that it was carved into the shape of horns. He continued his look, his gaze gliding over the walls covered in animal pelts of all types and kinds.

Something moved, something Harry hadn't noticed in his excited inventory of the tent. It was one of those magnificent deer! The animal languidly moved to Artie's side, and put its head in her lap.

Smiling at it, she patted its neck. Harry never would have imagined those magnificent golden deer to be like house pets, but there it was. Maybe that was why they didn't seem to mind when Harry petted them.

"Harry, this is Zoë Nightshade, my lieutenant, and my oldest friend. Zoë, be known to Harry Potter, my… student, under the patronage of Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth and the Home."

Harry offered the girl a tentative smile. Zoë had coppery-colored skin, dark brown eyes and a slightly upturned nose, and had a silver circlet braided into the top of long dark hair.

She studied him in return.

Artie didn't seem troubled by the dragging silence, and sat watching them with an amused smile on her lips.

Harry noticed first. "You're enjoying this!" he accused.

Zoë bristled. "Thou should show respect to My Lady!" she snapped out. Harry looked at her in confusion at the outburst.

"It's alright, Zoë," Artemis said. "It was how he was introduced to me. I have come to… appreciate… his candor. Sometimes," she finished with a tightening of her eyes.

Harry felt trapped, despite having the exit to the tent behind him. The fact that he was the only one still standing, clutching that box of cookies and his notebook, made it feel like he had been dragged into the teacher's office at school.

He wasn't sure the cookies would be helpful now. Or even welcome, not with the way Zoë seemed to be glaring at him.

"I must admit to some amusement, though," Artie said, still smiling. "After your talk about how you were sure you would like my old friend, it seems that you are failing."

Harry frowned at her, and Zoë seemed to cast an unsure look at the goddess. "My Lady?" the Hunter asked, confused.

Artie turned to look at her companion, still smiling. "On the way here, we had a small discussion on appropriate and inappropriate behavior. Harry then told me that he liked me, despite the fact that I am rather indifferent towards men and boys. He also told me that he was sure that, since he likes me, he would like you, as well."

"It's not a nice thing to stir up trouble, Artie," Harry muttered with a pout. He was going to say more, but Zoë interrupted him.

"Despite thy assurances, thou would address My Lady with such disrespect, boy!?" She was halfway to her feet, when she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

"It's alright, Zoë. As I said, it was how Harry was introduced to me. He means no disrespect," Artie said, calming down the girl and making her sit. "I must admit it was quite childish of me. I merely wished to point out that plans do not always go as expected, and that sometimes, despite your best efforts, you sometimes can't get along with people."

Harry sighed, as Zoë sent Artie another look that he couldn't decipher. "I want to get along with Miss Zoë, though," he muttered. He looked at the Hunter in question. "After everything Hestia said, and everything Artie said, you sound really awesome."

Zoë blinked. "I… thank thee?" she offered, not having expected a compliment of all things. Seeing himself on steadier ground, he stepped closer, and held out the Tupperware container. "Hestia said you liked these, so I baked some. I hope you like them."

Zoë glanced at her goddess, who seemed to be pouting for some reason, then stood up to accept the box. Opening the container, she picked out a cookie at random and studied it.

"It… appears fine," she said, as if unsure whether it was actually edible or not. Harry held his breath when she bit into it.

Her eyed opened and a sound escaped her that she seemed to blush at. The cookie vanished into her mouth with incredible speed, and Harry let out his breath, smiling widely. She liked them.

"Thou made these?" The Hunter questioned intently.

Harry nodded. "I baked them this morning. I used Hestia's recipe, then tweaked it a little."

A second cookie, half-eaten, remained frozen halfway to her mouth. "Thou took a recipe of the Goddess of the Home, and modified it?"

Harry nodded. Now that they were calming down, Harry realized that Zoë had an accent that was thick and unusual, one that he thought sounded exotic and perfectly fitting for her.

"It was a mortal recipe, so I took some ambrosia, grated it into a really fine powder, and used just a sniff of it to bring out the flavor of the chocolate. Just enough to enhance flavor, not enough to turn it into an ambrosia cookie," he explained.

Zoë still looked at the cookie, and then glanced at him. "Does… Lady Hestia… know thou hath modified her recipe?"

Harry shook his head. "I'll discuss it with her tonight when she comes over. I love discussing recipes with her; she knows a _ton_ about cooking!"

The Hunter nodded, then finished off the cookie. "'T is delicious," she admitted, as if it pained her. "I thank thee." She looked at the box. "I also hope Lady Hestia will not be upset at thou modifying her recipe."

Harry smiled widely. "Hestia loves it when I improvise. She says that the best way to learn is to experiment."

Some tension seemed to go out of Zoë's shoulders, and Harry wondered why that was. Until he remembered how Artie could get angry with him for silly little things like asking the wrong question, so he thought Zoë must have been concerned for his safety.

He offered her a smile. For a moment, she looked like she was going to smile back, then seemingly remembered herself, and sat down instead.

"They are delicious," she repeated herself, as she sat comfortably and ate another cookie.

"He also wouldn't let me have any," Artie said, still pouting.

Zoë stared at Artie, before changing her incredulity over to Harry. "Thou denied My Lady?" she asked, her tone halfway between shocked, appalled, and angry.

Harry shrugged. "Well, yeah. I made them for you. It would be kind of a waste to bake you cookies, and then let someone else eat them."

"You didn't bake _me_ cookies when we first met," Artie said, still pouting as it seemed Zoë wasn't about to share her bounty either.

"I gave you macaroni and cheese," Harry replied. "And you loved it."

Artie crossed her arms, and looked away. "Yes, I did," she said, as if admitting it hurt.

"Thou canst cook as well?" Zoë asked. "Not only cookies?"

Harry smiled widely; he would have to do something _very_ nice for Hestia. Her suggestion of baking cookies seems to have broken the ice with Zoë! "I live by myself, Miss Zoë," the young boy explained. "So I always cook for myself. Hestia has left me a book of recipes, and I try new ones every day. Hestia has said I learn quickly, and that I'm pretty good at it."

The Hunter nodded. "High praise coming from a goddess," she said. Artie grunted, and looked away, still not having gotten a cookie and seemingly unwilling to straight-out ask for one.

Zoë looked at her goddess, and apparently realized what was wrong. "Wouldst thou like one, My Lady?" she offered the container.

"Yes, please," Artie said, not even bothering with pretending otherwise. Snatching one, she bit into it as if worried someone would take it from her.

Zoë seemed as amused by the goddess' actions as Harry was. Not that she showed it as obviously as he did.

"Anyway," Artie coughed, after devouring her cookie and realizing that she had finished it just a tad quickly. "Zoë, I have been teaching Harry the basics of survival over the last couple of months, and it has come to the point where I don't have sufficient available time if I am to teach him properly. I have brought Harry here for training, in other words. As we discussed, I would like it if you were to consent to taking over his training."

The Hunter was silent for a few moments, while Harry gave her hopeful looks.

"My Lady, is this a command?" she finally asked. "If thou were to ask it of me, then of course I shall."

Artie shook her head. "I would never order any of my Hunters to spend time with a male, especially not if it is against their wishes. This is strictly voluntary."

Zoë turned her gaze back to Harry, who was still doing his best to give her hopeful looks. "We shall see," She finally decided, addressing him. "I still give thee a lesson. I shall expect the very best of thee. If thou passes, we shall continue, until such a time that thou fails. Or thou decides to stop."

Harry nodded, grinning widely. "That's how Artie's been teaching me too, Miss Zoë. I don't mind."

The Hunter seemed to sigh, and debate with herself on whether this was a good idea after all. She shot another look at her goddess, who just looked back, amused.

"My Lady?" Zoë asked. "Art thou sure?"

Artie kept her amused look. "It was how I was roped into this as well, Zoë. Hestia asked me to teach the boy how to survive in the wild. I decided on giving him one lesson, make it harsh, and ensure that he wouldn't wish to continue. Instead, I found myself with an eager pupil, who kept up despite my efforts."

Zoë nodded. "Very well," she said to Harry. "We shall start. Follow me." she nodded to Artie. "My Lady."

Artemis' look of amusement grew at the sight of her lieutenant's disgruntlement.

"Thanks, Miss Zoë!" Harry said, grinning widely. "Thanks, Artie!" he shot at the amused Goddess of the Hunt, following Zoë out of the tent.

The Hunter kept up a good pace, and little Harry had to leg it to keep up. "Explain to me why thou art interested in these lessons, boy," she said as they walked.

Harry's legs pumped, but he managed to keep up. "Do…" he started, and then asking, softly, "do you have to call me that?" he asked, plaintively.

"Call thee what?" Zoë asked, confused, shooting him a look.

Harry swallowed. "Boy," he said. "It's what _they…_" He stopped, then forced himself to continue. Zoë had to know. "My aunt and uncle… called me that when they threw me in my cupboard without food for a few days."

Zoë looked at him, and for a moment, Harry thought her harsh look softened. It may have been his imagination. Or not. Because she kept quiet a few moments, then nodded.

"I see," she said. "Just like some of my sisters, thou hast not had good guardians." She nodded once. "I shall refrain from calling thee 'boy'." She fell silent again, thinking for a few moments. "Please remind me should I forget." She looked down at him, staring intently at his face. "Let me know if there is anything else I should avoid saying, or doing. I may not like thee, as thou art male, but that does not mean I hate thee enough to wish to remind you of certain events."

Harry smiled at her, tentatively. "Thanks, Miss Zoë."

She dipped her head once. "Now, please answer my original question. Why doest thou wish to learn this?"

The young boy swallowed. He hated talking about this part of his life, as he didn't want people's pity. "My aunt and uncle didn't feed me a lot," he finally said. "So I got used to being hungry. They also told me that it was okay to food with funny colors or with fuzz on it, even if it tasted funny. Hestia told me they were lying, but when you get hungry enough, you'll eat it, you know?"

Zoë stared at him, hard. Harry swallowed, and went on when she remained silent. "They must have gotten tired of me," the boy whispered. "Because they left me in New York after buying my passport from me for 100 dollars. I used it to buy food. And a blanket. But then the money was gone, and I was tired and hungry again. So I ate out of a skip when I could."

"A… 'skip'?" Zoë asked, her voice a curious lilt, as if she were bracing herself for an answer she wouldn't like.

"It's a… dumpster, I think Hestia called it. A large metal container outside of buildings where people throw trash. And people throw away lots of food, even if it's fuzzy and tastes funny. When you're hungry enough, you'll eat anything. That's why I want to learn plants and animals and survival and things, so I can take care of myself and I don't have to go fishing in a skip – because they get emptied every now and then, and then you get _really_ hungry."

He swallowed, and then looked away, scuffing his foot on the ground. "I'm good now, and Hestia is really great. But maybe she'll grow tired of me, too. My aunt and uncle did, and they were family. Good things don't last. So I want to be able to take care of myself."

Zoë kept staring at him. When he gave no sign of continuing, she said, "I see." She went silent again, thinking. "That is… a proper reason," she finally decided. "Surprising as it is," she added. Again, silence, more thought. "As I know Lady Hestia, she would not abandon thee easily. My Lady, too, seems to have taken a liking to thee. However, 't is never a bad idea to be prepared for the worst. One never knows what the future will bring."

Zoë starting walking again, and Harry followed. He didn't want to think about being left again, but he had to be ready just in case. His aunt and uncle had abandoned him, and they were _family_.

They stopped at one of the tents, and Zoë pulled back the flap. "This is the supply tent," she explained. "Pick one of the backpacks and follow me."

Harry went in, and noticed a dozen or so backpacks of the kind and size that Artie usually conjured during her lessons. He never had to carry one before, as Artie always conjured them in place, but Harry wasn't about to fail his new teacher in her first lesson.

He looked the packs over, found them all to be identical, and picked up the one that was best situated for him to pick up, one that was on top of a couple of others so that he didn't have to bend down too much.

He carried it out, and found that Zoë had already started walking. He tried putting the pack on his back, but it was almost as tall as he was, making it difficult for him to walk as his feet kept bumping into it.

Somehow managing to catch up, he kept working the pack in an effort to make it more comfortable for him to follow her.

"Thou seem to be struggling," Zoë noted without a hint of helpfulness.

"It's the first time I carry one," Harry explained. "Artie usually conjures one when we arrive. I've unpacked and repacked one dozens of times, I've set up the tent dozens of times, but Artie's never had me carry one." His heels bumped into the pack when he took a larger stride.

"I see," Zoë said, looking him over. "It does appear to be slightly large for thee. Keep walking," she instructed when she fell back behind him. Harry kept walking.

He felt her hitch the pack up higher and adjust the straps. "That should hold thee," she said, stepping out from behind him, and rapidly taking the lead again.

"Thanks, Miss Zoë!" Harry said, grinning widely.

"Remember how it is done, I shall not remind thee," Zoë said, just dipping her head in recognition of his gratitude. Harry nodded, took his notebook, and made notes to remind himself to study the pack when they stopped so he could figure out how it was done.

"We shall go to that forest of there, to a clearing I know," the Hunter stated, pointing straight ahead. "There we shall see what you have learnt from My Lady."

"Okay, Miss Zoë," Harry said. They walked in silence, Harry's smaller legs pumping to keep up with the Hunter's longer, easy-going strides.

When they entered the forest, Harry struggled to keep up; Zoë seemed to know instinctively where to put her feet to avoid slipping on the mossy floor, or avoid holes, or anything else that would break her stride.

Harry, despite having been in forests plenty of times with Artie, had never been pushed like this and he had to work hard to keep up.

When they finally arrived at the clearing, he wanted panting and sweating, while Zoë didn't even bother to look even slightly winded.

"Good. Thou kept up," she decided. "Please put up the tent."

Harry dropped the heavy pack. "Yes, Miss Zoë," he managed between gasps of air. Thankfully, this was something he _had_ done plenty of times before, and within minutes he had the backpack unpacked, and the tent put up.

The Hunter circled it, studying it intently. "Very good," she praised. "Very good indeed. I can see where My Lady hath trained thee. Thou did it precisely and true to the rules."

Harry smiled at her, thankful for the praise. "Thanks, Miss Zoë."

The Hunter dipped her head, yet did not make to reply while looking at the tent. "Break it down. I shall show thee how to do it quicker," she finally decided.

Harry broke it down and repacked it, precisely following the steps Artie had shown him.

His new teacher took the pack from him. "My Lady is the Goddess of the Hunt," she said. "That means that she does everything according to the rules, in the best way possible. However, in most cases, one does not need to follow the _best_ way. One needs only to follow the most _efficient_ way. This is how a Hunter pitches a tent," she explained, and pitched the tent.

Harry stared. It was far quicker. Far _far_ quicker. He could also see where Artie's way would be better; on uneven ground, during storms, or with any kind of adverse conditions, following Artie's way would get the tent pitched. But like Zoë said – this ground was flat, there was hardly any wind, there was no storm. And so, the tent could be pitched faster.

He grabbed his notebook, flipping to the page detailing how to pitch a tent, and started writing.

The Hunter stepped over, and read over his shoulder. She nodded as the boy wrote. Suddenly, she interrupted him, and pointed out a mistake he was making.

"Thanks, Miss Zoë," the boy said, smiling at her over his shoulder, and correcting himself.

"I am pleased thou art taking this seriously," she commented when he was done taking his notes. "Now that thou hast written it down, thou art to do it." She pointed to the tent. "Break it down and put it up, as I showed thee."

Harry nodded. "Alright, Miss Zoë," he said, starting to break down the tent. As he worked, he kept his attention to the tent, but asked, "How would you put up the tent when there's a storm?"

"Observe," she said, making him look up. She seemed amused.

As he watched, she pulled a package out of her inner packet, something the size of a pack of gum. She threw it to the ground, and it unfolded into a perfectly pitched tent.

Harry stared at it with open mouth. He then looked at her, and back to the tent. "That… that's amazing!"

"A gift from My Lady," Zoë said. "We use it while on the Hunt, during bad conditions, or when time is of the essence. In an effort to not become reliant on it, we will pitch our tents normally under normal conditions."

"Whoa," Harry just said. Zoë gave him an amused look before approaching her tent, and making it fold back into its pack-of-gum format, which she put back into her pocket. "Now, I do believe I gave thee a task to perform."

Harry nodded hurriedly and quickly went back to work. "Sorry, Miss Zoë."

She seemed even more amused now. " 'T is always fun to see the reaction to My Lady's folding tents."

Harry didn't react, feeling as if she were teasing him. After he broke the tent down, he put it back up using the quicker technique she had just shown him. It took him a couple of times to get it right – contrary to Artie's technique, this one left him with a collapsed tent on the first few tries before he got it right.

"Good," she said, when he finally managed. "Now, do it again."

Harry simply nodded; he was used to performing a task over and over again for Artie. This was no different, and so he broke it down and did it again. And again. And again. Until Zoë determined that he did it 'right' and had the technique down.

"Good," his new teacher decided. "Repack they pack and we shall return to camp."

"Okay, Miss Zoe," Harry said, doing his best to repack everything as it was supposed to. He felt good about what he learned, but his nerves were hammering about her decision. Would she continue to teach him, or not? He hoped so; she appeared really cool and had taught him a neat new way of packing a tent.

After packing his tent, and finally documenting the changes she made to the straps so he could carry it somewhat comfortably, he followed her back to camp. During the voyage, she kept up a constant commentary on the plants and trees along the way, which forced Harry to scribble notes while on the go.

A couple of times, he nearly ran into a tree, only managing to avert a collision at the last moment.

As they emerged from the tree line, Zoë halted her narration. "Good. Thou needst to learn to keep watch on thy surroundings. Thou never knowest when thou may need it."

Harry just nodded, huffing again from both trying to keep up with her long strides, and from trying to keep both an eye on his surroundings and writing notes at the same time. He ignored how her accent came and went, it was unique and he rather liked it. Even if it made her hard to understand sometimes.

They arrived back at the Hunters' camp, and Zoë had Harry stow the backpack where he had gotten it – after adjusting the straps back to their original configuration so they wouldn't bother the next Hunter who used it.

He exited the tent and found his new teacher and his previous teacher locked in discussion.

"Thou art correct, My Lady," Zoë was telling Artie. "He appears quite eager and dedicated."

Artemis, to her credit, didn't seem to be gloating, but looked decidedly smug in Harry's opinion. He approached them, and grinned. "Miss Zoë's awesome," he told Artie.

The Goddess of the Hunt turned from smug to amused. "You liked your lesson, then? Will you continue them?"

Harry nodded eagerly. "For as long as Miss Zoë wants," he answered, suddenly feeling his nerves again. He looked plaintively at her.

The Hunter in question sighed. "Very well. We shall continue they lessons whenever there is time."

"Thanks, Miss Zoë!" the boy shouted.

"Thou art welcome," she just answered. "Maintain thy attitude, and there will be no issue."

Harry just grinned, before realizing that the sun was setting. He hadn't realized how much time he had spent in the woods with his new teacher, but now that he saw the sun he realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh no, I should head back," he said, slightly urgently. "Before Hestia gets worried. She likes to check up on me."

Artie looked amused again. "I found it best not to upset Aunt Hestia, I agree with you," she told the young boy.

Harry hugged his second favorite goddess. "Thanks for everything, Artie."

"You're welcome, harry," she said, breaking the embrace.

Harry turned to Zoë. "Hug?" he asked.

The Huntress eyed him like she wanted to slit his throat. "I think not."

Harry shrugged, grinning, and held out one hand. "Thanks, Miss Zoë."

She shook her head, then clasped his hand. "Thou art welcome."

Harry released the handshake, turned, and walked to the fire. "Doest thou not need transportation?" He heard Zoë ask.

The boy shook his head, waved his hand at the campfire, and _thought _the special activation phrase Hestia had taught him. He should be careful with it; you never knew who was listening.

The fire turned green. Harry turned around, waved at Artie and Zoë, then spun and stepped through the flames into the temple he now called home.

He emerged from the fireplace, and set out to the kitchen, suddenly realizing that he was extremely hungry.

He hadn't made it more than ten steps, before the fire whooshed behind him. He turned, and raced to catch his all-time favorite goddess in a hug.

"Hi Hestia!"

"Hello Harry," the kind goddess replied, giving him an amused smile. "Did you have a good time with Artie and her lieutenant?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Miss Zoë's awesome! She speaks like before spelling was invented, it's great fun!"

Hestia smothered a laugh, knowing how the Hunter would react to such an admission. She was prickly about the English language, and how often it changed. "So you learned a lot, then?" the goddess asked, changing the subject.

Harry nodded again. "She taught me to put up a tent quicker than Artie's method," he said. "And she taught me a lot of new plants and trees and things. She said she'd keep teaching me as long as I kept working at it."

"I am glad to hear it," Hestia said, her customary smile in place.

Harry leaned in closer, as if divulging a secret. Hestia, curious, leaned in as well. "Miss Zoë's really pretty, too," he admitted. "But don't tell her I said that. She's a Hunter and I'm not supposed to notice." He finished with his finger to his lips.

Hestia smothered another laugh. "It'll be our secret," she promised.

Harry stepped back, and was about to resume his way to the kitchen, when he stopped and looked at her. "You came in really quickly after I came back. Were you watching me?"

Hestia just smiled gently. "I would be a poor goddess if I didn't keep an eye on my favorite mortal," she replied. Her smile widened slightly. "Besides, I don't have to watch you when you're coming home through the hearth."

"Because you're the Goddess of the Hearth and you know what happens with one," Harry said, remembering.

Hestia nodded. "Exactly," she smiled.

**AN: I have been receiving some reviews asking about Harry's godly parent. If you really want to know, drop me a PM - I WILL answer with what I have in mind, so don't ask unless you truly wish to know.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 5**

Harry was in his kitchen, books spread out on his kitchen table, taking notes from one of the maths books Hestia had given him. Sometimes, he got involved in other projects – cooking an elaborate dish, learning from Zoë or from Artie – but he still tried to get in some regular schooling every day.

Sometimes he got Hestia to help him. Truth be told, ever since she had taught him the basics of reading, writing, and maths, he thought he had been doing pretty well learning by himself.

At least, until he asked Hestia for help and it showed where his interests were. Those subjects he liked, like science and history, he was very good at. Those he didn't, like mathematics, he wasn't so good at. So he tried to do his best to keep up on those subjects.

So here he was, doing his sums and subtractions. And multiplications. And divisions.

The fireplace in the living area whooshed, and Harry looked up, watching his all-time favorite goddess walk to wards him.

He got up from the table, smiling widely at her. "Hestia!" he said, giving her a big hug.

"Hello, Harry," the kind goddess greeted back. Looking at the books and notes on the table, her smile turned pleased. "Working on your maths?"

Harry nodded. "It's boring, though."

"Sometimes we have to do things we don't like doing," the Goddess of the Home said, gently. "Think of it like doing the dishes."

"I prefer doing dishes to doing maths," Harry pouted.

Hestia laughed softly. "I think very few people would argue with you, Harry," she answered. The goddess started to sit down and looked around the kitchen as she did so. She froze halfway down, then stood up again.

"Harry?" she asked, her voice deceptively soft. Harry froze; he didn't like that tone directed at him.

"Yes, Hestia?" he asked, confused and concerned.

"Why is there a bottle of amaretto on the kitchen counter, and why is it not full?" she asked, pointing to said bottle. "I do believe I explained that I preferred you did not drink."

Harry smiled, and went to his refrigerator. "Because I've been cooking!" he said, pulling the door to the appliance open. Hestia, at his shoulder, peered inside.

On the bottom shelf stood half a dozen individually-sized containers of tiramisu. "I made desserts!" he finished, pointing to said containers.

Hestia eyeballed them for a moment, then looked at him. "While that dessert does indeed often contain alcohol like rum or amaretto, it _can_ be made without it," she stated.

Harry took out a serving, and held it out. "It wouldn't be tiramisu without it," he protested softly. "Will you try one?"

Hestia sighed softly, and accepted. "Do you know why I requested you do not drink?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "Because I'm 'too young'?" he asked in return, placing obvious quotes.

Hestia's lips twitched. "No, Harry. I'm from ancient Greece. All of us gods are. In our time, water was tainted, so alcohol was added to make it safe. Usually, fives measures of water to two measures of alcohol – mostly wine. No, Harry, the reason I asked you to stop drinking is because these days, alcohol is drank in a pure form. Drinking alcohol without diluting it leads to alcoholism. _That_ is why I asked you not to drink."

"Oh," Harry said. "So if I put it in water, it'd be ok?"

Hestia sighed. "I would still prefer it if you didn't," she replied, conjuring a small spoon and trying some of the treat she was holding. Her eyes widened. She looked at the dessert. "Harry?" she asked, her voice low again.

"Yes, Hestia?" Harry replied, worried he'd done something wrong.

"Did you add ambrosia to this?" she asked.

Harry offered a tentative smile. "Just a pinch. I grated it really fine, until it's a powder, then sprinkled some in to enhance the flavor. It works brilliantly." Now that he thought about it, it had been several months since he first added ambrosia to the cookies he made for Zoë, and he never did get around to tell Hestia about his invention.

Hestia ate some more tiramisu. "Yes," she said, "It does work well." She drew a breath, then released it. "Two things. First of all, I am extremely proud of you for figuring that out. Ambrosia is both an ingredient and a condiment, and can be used either way. I am very proud of you for figuring out the alternative use for it."

"Thanks, Hestia!" Harry said, smiling widely.

The goddess in question went on. "Second, please refrain from using it often. It isn't a problem for us gods, but as I explained before, there is only so much ambrosia a demigod can tolerate each day. It is the reason why most of the recipes I have given you do not include it. You may, inadvertently, go over the daily safe limit for a demigod. Especially as you grow older, and may need ambrosia or nectar to heal. Ingesting additional ambrosia, even in small quantities, may trigger an adverse reaction."

"Oh," Harry said, suddenly feeling a lot less proud of himself.

"Don't worry, Harry. Using ambrosia as a condiment isn't likely to trigger reactions, but the possibility exists. I simply ask that you be careful." She smiled at him. "And as I said, I am extremely proud of you for figuring out that ambrosia is a seasoning as well as an ingredient."

Harry just offered her a tiny smile.

"Now, back to liquor. Using it in cooking is fine. I simply wish for you to be careful with it. Alcohol did a lot of good back in the day, but it did a lot of bad, too. Like ambrosia, now that I think about it. Please be careful."

The young boy relaxed. "Thanks, Hestia."

"Now, you seemed to have made more dessert than you can handle by yourself," the goddess teased. "Are you cooking for someone else?"

Harry suddenly nodded enthusiastically. "Artie and Miss Zoë love my cooking, so I sometimes bring them something when I go for training. I only brought cookies for Miss Zoë that first time, but Artie's pouting made me bring something for her, too, the next time I made something."

Hestia burst out laughing. "I could see my niece pout at not getting desserts," the Goddess of the Home said, still snickering. "I would wager she wasn't very gracious about it, either."

Harry shook his head. "She guilted Miss Zoë into giving her some. That's why I started making things for both of them."

Hestia smiled and patting his arm. "I am glad to see that you get along with both of them, and that you have found the joys of cooking for others."

Harry nodded again. "I love it when they enjoy the things I make," he said.

Hestia gave him a very pleased smile, when turned a little less sunny when she thought of something. "Although I do think I will have a small chat with my niece and her lieutenant, just to make sure they're not taking advantage of you."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think they are. I love cooking and baking, and they love eating what I make."

Hestia smiled softly, and patted his shoulder. "I'll just make sure."

"Speaking of Zoë and Artie," Harry said, "I probably won't be home for the next week or so."

Hestia had finished her treat, and was now focused on the young boy. "Are you going on a trip?" she asked, her lips twitching into a teasing smile. "I didn't think Artie or Zoë would go for a vacation with boys."

Harry shook his head. "Miss Zoë has said that she has taught me a lot in the last couple of months, and it's time for me to show that I was paying attention. So, she's taking me to a forest for a week, and I have to show her that I can survive. She'll be with me, but I'll need to pitch the tent, find water, make a fire, and find food all on my own. I'll have the standard pack used by Artie's Hunters, so I'll have all the equipment I need, but I'll still need to find food and water and stuff."

"I see," Hestia replied, smiling gently. "Thank you for letting me know, I would have been quite worried had I thought you disappeared. I'm sure you'll do well."

Harry grinned.

"I must have that chat with Artie and her lieutenant first, however," Hestia said, standing up from the table. "Just making sure they know I am looking out for you, of course."

Harry just nodded, trotting after her as she walked calmly to the hearth. "Please don't be angry with them, Hestia," he finally said. "I just like brining desserts and stuff. They're not making me do anything, I promise."

Hestia smiled, and patted his shoulder. "You are kind, Harry. You don't have to worry, I just wanted to make sure. Good luck on your… exam," she finished, and walked through the fire.

Harry pouted after her, he didn't want to be reminded of the fact that his camping trip was an actual exam.

He turned back to his books and studied for a few more hours, before he went to pack his bag. It didn't contain much, as he'd be getting an actual Hunter's backpack with equipment. He only packed some of his school books, to keep making Hestia proud, and some toiletries.

He started to walk to the hearth, then suddenly remembered the tiramisu he'd made. Taking two individual portions from his refrigerator, he carried them through the fire to the Hunters' camp.

As usual, when he arrived through the fire, he found the Hunters startling, and more than a few bows were put away when they realized it was him. Except for Phoebe, she kept her bow out for a bit longer, just to make sure he had seen it.

He wondered when she would stop hating him that much, before ignoring her behavior, and approaching Artie and Zoë, who were standing not far away, apparently engrossed in a discussion. Zoë was the first to notice him, and the conversation stopped immediately.

He smiled widely at him, and gave his second-favorite goddess a one-armed hug. "Hi Artie, hi Miss Zoë," he greeted them both, before holding out the small containers. "I brought dessert. Oh, and Hestia seems to think that you're _making_ me cook. I don't know why."

Artemis, goddess of the Hunt, Immortal Man-Hater, hugged him back and eagerly took the top container. "Hello, Harry," she greeted back. "And thank you."

Zoë simply greeted him with a dignified nod, and accepted her portion. "Lady Hestia visited earlier. We reassured her."

Harry pouted. "I asked her not to be angry, and told her I love cooking and baking."

"She's merely looking out for three," Zoë reassured him. "'T was but a minor issue."

Harry put his pack down, and looked at Zoë, who was eagerly eating her dessert. "Hug?" he offered.

The Lieutenant of the Hunters stopped eating, and eyed him. "Nay," she declined. She'd gotten used to him offering hugs over the couple of months that she had been training him, and now no longer glared at him.

Artie seemed amused at the by-play. She, too, had gotten used to Harry's offers, and once she realized that the boy really _wouldn't_ act without Zoë's approval, had become amused rather than angry.

"Art thou ready for thy test?" Zoë asked Harry, ignoring her Lady's amusement with ease of long exposure.

Harry nodded hesitantly. "I hope so, Miss Zoë. I have my notebook."

"I'm sure Zoë won't let you die," Artie said, smiling. "Suffer, yes. But not die. Pain's a good teacher, after all."

Harry pouted when Zoë laughed softly, which of course made her laugh harder. His pout turned into a small smile, Zoë didn't laugh all that often, and he liked it when she did.

"Miss Zoë's great," he told Artie. "I'm sure that she'll help me if I need it. I'm sure it'll be great fun."

The Hunter shook her head slightly. "'T is a test of thy ability, 't wouldn't be much of one if I did it for thee. Thou must do this thyself, following what My Lady and I have taught thee. I shall prevent thee from perishing, but I shall not aid thee unless absolutely necessary."

Harry grinned. "Alright, Miss Zoë."

"Shall we depart?" she asked-slash-told Harry. He just nodded.

"My Lady," Zoë said, dipping her head to her goddess in goodbye before handing her the empty container she still had in her hands.

Harry grinned, hugged Artie, and said, "Bye, Artie."

The Goddess of the Hunt hugged him back, patted his shoulder with her free hand, and walked away, shaking her head, holding the stacked and empty containers. She'd make sure they were clean and sent back – after all, she wanted Harry to cook more delicious desserts.

Harry followed Zoë to the supply tent, where he picked out one of the spare packs, and adjusted the straps with ease of long practice. Ever since Zoë had shown him that first time he went out with her, he'd been practicing it.

Then came his first problem. He had a small pack with his school books and his own supplies, and the large Hunter's pack with all the survival supplies, the tent, and so forth. "Ehm," he muttered, staring at the two packs and trying to find a way to put one in the other.

Zoë just stood there, amused, not offering any words or suggestions.

Harry knew the Hunter's pack itself was full, he'd repacked it often enough. Luckily for him, the pack also had lots of pockets that were left empty – to allow for carrying additional supplies. He squeezed the toiletries in the pockets, and shifted some of the smaller items around from one pocket to another so he had enough free space to put in his books.

"Done!" he said, grinning, proud of himself.

Zoë just dipped her head, then said, "Art thou done stalling for time?"

Harry pouted at her, knowing her well enough after months of lessons to know when she was teasing him.

"Let us be off, then," the Hunter said, paying his pout not mind. She, too, had gotten used to him, and his pout no longer affected her.

They left camp. Harry looked around, trying to figure out where the camp was located this time. As they started walking, the boy frowned, and looked over his shoulder. The camp had seemingly vanished.

He looked at the back of Zoë Nightshade; trying to figure out of she had something to do with this, when he suddenly realized they were in a forest. A mountainous forest.

"What… ?" he managed, before stopping himself.

Zoë answered him regardless, her voice amused. "As part of the boon granted to us Hunters by our Lady, we are able to travel great distances quickly. It has its limits, as we must know exactly where we are going, but it has its uses."

"Oh… okay," Harry said, looking at the forest that was now thick and dark around him. "So, where are we?" he asked innocently.

Zoë laughed. "'t was a good try, but this _is_ a test."

Harry grinned. "You can't blame me for trying."

"Indeed not," Zoë replied, still amused. Suddenly, the forest gave way, and they were in a very large clearing, covered with knee-high greens of all shapes and sizes. "This is where I stop guiding thee," she noted seriously. "However, before I do so – here," she said, holding out a hunting knife in a sheath. "Attach this to thy belt."

Harry smiled widely. "Thanks, Miss Zoë!" he said loudly, accepting the knife. He knew better than to be without a belt; even if he didn't need one, a belt was useful for a lot of things. He attached the sheath quickly and easily.

Zoë gave a sharp nod when he finished. "Consider this me abandoning thee. From here on out, 't is up to thee to survive."

Harry looked around. "Okay," he muttered, suddenly feeling a lot less confident about his chances. He had hoped to be dropped in a forest he knew, or one he had been to before. This was definitely a new forest, especially as the mountains were not familiar to him.

He dropped the pack he was carrying, and dug the compass out of one of the pockets. He oriented it, then sighed, and put it away. Knowing which way was north wouldn't help him in this situation. He was 'lost', and this was a test of survival, not one of him finding civilization.

First priority, find water. He looked around, then closed his eyes. He didn't hear the trickling of water. He opened his eyes again. The sky was overcast, low and dark and ominous, and Harry frowned up at it. If it started raining, he'd be in even more trouble.

He identified a spot that he thought looking like it was downhill, and started walking. For close to an hour, he walked through the thick forest, the ground uneven.

The overcast sky suddenly let loose with thunder and lightning – and copious amount of rain. Harry bit back a curse as the cold and wet hit him – Hestia didn't like bad language, and she was the last person Harry wanted to offend.

So he bit back on his language, found a halfway decent spot, and hurriedly pitched his tent. Zoë, his ever-present shadow, was dressed warmly in thick winter clothing with a hood thrown over her head to stave off the rain. He wished he had similar equipment. Her ten was up before his was, and he shot her a look. She merely grinned at her self-pitching tent.

Harry tried dragging some twigs and branches together to start a fire. The fire started, thanks to his Hestia-taught skills, but it sputtered out immediately thanks to the torrential rain. Harry guessed Muster Zeus was definitely taking his anger out on him right now.

He crawled into his tent, and spread out his sleeping bag. Without a fire, the tent was damp and cold, but the sleeping bag kept him off the freezing ground. He crawled into it after shedding most of his cold and wet clothing. He shivered, despite the heavy insulation of both tent and sleeping bag.

His head was hurting slightly; his mouth was dry. He was dehydrated, not having drank anything for quite a while and having exerted himself quite badly. He listened to the downpour, and debated whether it would be worth it to capture any of the rain.

The best he had was his canteen or his cup, which wouldn't capture anything in any sort of timescale where it would be useful. So he tried to sleep.

He managed some half-asleep dreaming, where his body was in a constant state of readiness. By the time he crawled out of his tent the next morning, he felt like he may as well not have slept at all. Luckily, the thunderstorm had passed.

He re-ignited the firewood he had dragged together the evening before, and crawled next to it to warm up. Zoë, as if smelling he was up, came out of her tent and collapsed it back into a pack of gum.

"'T is extraordinary how good thou art at making fire," she commented, sitting down on the other side of it.

"Hestia taught me to make fire," Harry commented. "If there's anyone good at makikng fire, it's the Goddess of the Hearth."

Zoë dipped her head, acknowledging his comment.

When the worst of the cold had leeched out of his bones, Harry sighed, and started breaking down his tent and repacking his bag. When he had done so, he stopped the fire with a wave of his hand. He sighed, looked around, and started walking in what he thought was downhill. The slope was gentle, so gentle that he hardly recognized it.

After a bit of walking, he reached a small clearing. In it, was something that made him smile.

Blueberries!

There weren't a lot of them, as birds like them too. He found maybe two hands full, but it was better than nothing and they made a decent breakfast.

Keeping on his course, he suddenly heard the trickling of water. Grinning, he increased his pace, finding a small stream trickling down. Grinning widely, he knelt down. For a moment, he debated on boiling the water, before reaching down and drinking. He was just so thirsty!

The first water in 24 hours felt so good going down that he drank deeply and greedily.

After drinking his fill, he trekked back just a few minutes, making sure that he was high enough not to be inundated in case of floods. After pitching his tent, he decided that he wasn't going to be without a fire if the weather acted up again, so he started making a sort-of roof to keep his fire under.

He had to make sure it was high enough so it wouldn't catch on fire itself, and it took his several hours to finish.

When Harry finished his task, he stepped back and looked at his construction. His stomach growled, he was hungry. He'd only eaten a couple of hands of blueberries, nowhere near enough. However, he was used to being hungry and right now, he needed to gather firewood.

Having done so, and starting his fire, he realized that the sun was already setting. It was going tobe dark in an hour or so. He sighed, search for, and found, some spruce trees, and gathered two handfuls of spruce needles.

Filling his canteen at the stream, he used it to make himself a cup of spruce needle tea. He was still hungry, but at least the needle tea would give him some nutrients. It tasted really good, too – like how a Christmas tree smelled.

When the sun set, Harry stoked up the fire to heat up his tent. Leaving one side open to the fire, he went to sleep. That night, he slept like a log, despite his hunger.

He woke up the next morning still hungry, and shivering. The fire had run out of fuel during the night and he hadn't had the energy to gather more.

And so, he gathered more firewood. He could do without food for a while longer, but he needed fire to keep himself warm. The mountains were freezing cold at night.

As he gathered firewood, he had drifted back to the clearing he had crossed on his way down. His eyes fell on something, and Harry smiled faintly. He'd reached the stage where his body had gone into a hyper-alert state in an effort to assist him in finding food.

Slowly, he dropped the firewood he was carrying, and approached his prey.

His hand snatched out. The butterfly had no chance and disappeared in his mouth before it realized what had happened. It wasn't much, but every bit of protein helped. He picked up the firewood again, and started collecting more.

As he drifted along the sides of the clearing, he noticed some of the plants growing there.

Curly Dock. It was edible, as long as the leaves and stems were young. The root had medicinal purposes, but you couldn't eat too much of it or you'd get stomach cramps. Picking the plants, and digging up the roots, Harry proceeded to take them back to his campsite.

Heavily laden with wood and plants, Harry stumbled back into his campsite, and he immediately set to stoking a fire. Baking the dock roots, he ate some of the dock leaves and stems. They tasted bitter, he didn't like them much.

The baked dock roots tasted even worse, and if he hadn't known for sure they were edible, he never would have eaten them. But he was so hungry, and used to eating whatever was available, so Harry didn't complain and just ate.

With his stomach full of dock roots, he sat back to enjoy the fire and his surroundings. Now that he was warm, and not hungry, he had time to enjoy the beauty of the forest.

Suddenly, his stomach cramped.

He raced to the latrine pit. The diarrhea attack was not fun, and it left him feeling weak and dizzy. He wobbled his way back to camp.

Zoë eyed him, yet said nothing.

"To much dock root, I suppose," Harry told her. She remained quiet, but he was aware that her gaze was locked tightly on him. It wasn't reassuring.

Ten minutes later, the attack came again.

When he got back, he managed to make some pine needle tea, and sip from it. He felt incredibly ill now, and part of him wished he could call this off.

He looked at Zoë. She looked compassionate. He wanted to give up. He wanted to go back to the temple. He wanted his bed. He wanted _Hestia_.

He sighed, feeling his intestines crawl into a knot. He raced back to the latrine pit.

When he got back, Harry grumped to himself. There was no way he was going to give up. No stupid dock root would keep him down.

He crawled into his tent and slept. It was feverish, filled with nightmarish dreams, and when he got up, his stomach was burbling angrily. No more dock roots. Ever. He pitched out the couple he had left; eating them would be worse than not eating them.

He had to find food. Real food.

As he foraged for food, he found something that made his blood ran cold. Bear scat. _Fresh_ bear scat.

Wherever he was… there were bears. He looked at Zoë, as if to confirm what he had found out. She remained impassive, but something in her eyes told him that _yes_, he had identified the droppings correctly.

He was still feeling ill from the stupid dock roots, but he had to stay sharp. He drew a breath, and tried to banish the feeling of illness. It didn't work, of course, but it was better than nothing.

Suddenly, he spotted a deer across a clearing. He sighed. Hunting was out; Artie kept the bow she gave him when they trained, and there was no way he'd be able to build his own and get good enough with it todo anything useful.

That meant trapping.

He scouted around, and found a trail; there didn't appear to be any other humans around, so the trail was definitely made by large animals. Finding a spot where the trail seemed to narrow, Harry looked around for useful items.

Using some string from his pack, he constructed a large-animal spring trap, connected to a pressure plate that was hidden by twigs and leaves. An animal would step on the plate, and a nearby sapling spruce would spring up, yanking the animal's leg and trapping it.

He studied his trap for a few moments, trying to make sure it was well hidden, before the gurgle of his stomach reminded him of his hunger. He had to eat _now_, he couldn't wait for the trap to trigger and catch something.

He retreated back to one of the clearings he had found. The sun was out, and the warmth felt good on him. For a moment, he stopped, drew himself to his full, not-very-impressive height, and basked in the warmth.

Then his current mission reminded him. He shot the sun a smile, and went looking for something to eat.

"Stupid grasshoppers," he muttered when he saw one jump from one plant to the next. He blinked. "Grasshoppers?"

He couldn't be picky; that lesson had been drilled into him from an early age. And grasshoppers were definitely edible. Half an hour later, he had caught maybe a dozen and a half of them, and skewered them on a long twig he had found.

He roasted them over the fire, and ate them with gusto. They tasted delicious. And with their hard shells, they crunched like potato chips. He made himself a cup of nettle tea to go with his meal, sat back, and relaxed. He'd finally had something to eat, and had some time to relax. He felt better, the dock root had finally run its course, apparently.

The next morning, he go up feeling as if he had been reborn. Drawing a deep breath to fill his lung with clean air from the mountainous forest, Harry smiled. So far, survival had been a whole lot tougher, and whole lot harder, than he had imagined. But now, now he finally started to feel like he had a chance, like he was starting to get a grip on things.

He grinned; time to take a bath. After five days, he definitely needed it.

Walking down to the creek, he turned to look at Zoë. "I'm going to have a bath and wash up."

The Hunter blinked, dipped her head, and ghosted into the forest. For a few moments, Harry stared in the direction she had vanished, suspicious that she was watching from a location he hadn't could see.

Finally, he shrugged. There wasn't anything he could do about it if she did. He undressed, jumped into the cold water, and washed the grime of five days of living in the woods off of his skin. Dragging his clothes through the water, he did his best to get the grime off them as well.

He hung them out to dry before splashing back in the stream. For just a little time, he was going to forget he was on a survival test, and he was going to enjoy himself. Zoë had explained how it was important to keep your spirits up when in a survival situation – so that was what he was going to do.

Half an hour later, shivering and wrinkled, Harry shimmied back into his still-damp clothing. At least they weren't completely wet anymore. He walked back to camp, and sat close to the fire to dry out. While he was doing that, he had taken a large branch, chopped a chunk off of it, and was now whittling a point to one end in an effort to make a spear. He didn't know why – the feeling in his gut was that he would need it.

Since that feeling had also brought him to Hestia on Mount Olympus, he had stopped doubting it.

"Thou seems cleaner," Zoë noted as she sat down on the other side of the fire, watching him whittle his spear.

He grinned at her. "When I'm done here, I'm going to check the trap; Just in case you wanted to have a wash."

The Hunter looked amused. "We Hunters have our secrets," she said mysteriously.

"Aw, that's so unfair! Self-pitching tents, now, mysterious ways to wash without washing!" he complained playfully.

Zoë was definitely amused now. "Thou knowest the price. Allow My lady to turn thee female, and thou canst learn these secrets for thyself."

Harry finished whittling and studied the tip. He nodded, and held it in the fire to harden the wood. Keeping his eyes on his task, he said, "Only if I get to turn back if I change my mind."

Zoë remained silent as he worked. Finally, she said, "Unfortunate. Thou would make an excellent addition to the Hunters. Thou wouldst be my little sister, then."

Harry finished his spear, and shook his head. "You're my friend now, Miss Zoë." He looked at her, only to see that she had vanished. He sighed, it had been the longest conversation he had with her since this test started. Maybe she had been feeling lonely – he knew he was.

Taking his new spear, he started trekking towards the trap. He had low expectations, despite the feeling in his gut. Traps rarely worked out so quickly.

To his surprise, when he approached it, he heard squealing and snorting. He knelt down and looked through the bushes.

His trap had caught a boar. A younger one, so to see – it definitely wasn't 80 centimeters tall, nor did it weigh 100 kilos. It still looked angry, squealing and snorting as it yanked angrily at the cordage tying it to the sapling. Harry was glad he had picked a sturdy-looking sapling for his trap, as that boar definitely looked like it could pull the tree out if it got angry enough.

Harry approached cautiously. The boar turned on three legs, one of them still off the ground, held by the tree, and snorted at him.

Raising his new spear, Harry studied his target, trying to make it a clean kill. Zoë and Artie both had insisted on proper reverence for his prey, and he was determined to make it quick so the animal didn't suffer.

Aiming for the heart, Harry thrusted. The sharpened stick drew a deep scratch in the wild pig's skin as it basically bounced off the thick hide. The boar squealed angrily and yanked ferociously at the trap.

Something had to give, and the young sapling was the thing to give. With the cord still tied to its foot, but now free, the boar charged Harry, who let out a very undignified yelp and dropped his spear in surprise.

He jumped aside, grabbing the boar as it raced past, and tried to hold on to it. The pig thrashed, rolling over the ground to throw Harry off, then charged again. Trying desperately to stay away from that mouth with sharp-looking tusks, Harry grabbed hold of the beast's neck, and tried to keep his body parts away from the front of the beast. He was fighting for his life, now.

"Remember thy knife, boy!" he heard a female voice shout.

Harry grunted, reached with one hand to his knife, unfixed the clasp, grabbed the weapon, and thrust it savagely into the boar's neck. It squealed once, then fell.

Harry stayed on his back, panting, staring at the skies. His body hurt.

"Thou made thy first kill, and in a personal manner," Zoë noted, staring down at him.

Harry just nodded, looking at his hands, now covered in the pig's blood. He swallowed deeply.

"Using a ranged weapon would have been easier," she noted, still looking down at him.

He drew in a deep breath, his heart had finally stopped pounding so hard. "I couldn't make a bow and become any good with it in such a short time," he protested.

Zoë looked amused. "Thou could have brought thy bow," she replied.

Harry frowned, looking up at her. "I don't have a bow. Artie conjures one for me to learn with, then vanishes it when the lesson's over."

Zoë grin vanished. "Oh," she said, looking shocked. She obviously hadn't expected that.

"I suppose you have your bow?" Harry asked, just a little bit of snark entering his voice. He'd just fought for his life, some rest would be good!

Zoë didn't take it personally, and pulled her bow form underneath her cloak. "One of My Lady's gifts is tobe able to draw our bows when required, and stow them away when not required," she said.

Harry didn't reply, and just groaned. Sometimes, it didn't pay to be a boy.

"Doest thou remember how to butcher a kill?" Zoë asked when five minutes had passed and he made no effort to move.

Harry groaned, and sat up. He was covered on bruises and cuts from where the pig had dragged him over the ground. He nodded, and stared at the boar.

"I should butcher it here, so the smell doesn't attract bears," he said. Zoë did not reply now that he was getting up, and stepped back into the background.

The boy stood up completely, and grabbed the cord that was still tied to the hog's hind leg. He dragged it over to a sturdy-looking tree, and hoisted it up.

He stared at it. Finally, he steeled himself, and yanked the knife out of the pig's throat, and started dressing his kill. Firt, he opened the hide, and stripped it off the carcass, before opening the belly cavity – making sure not to rupture the bowel, which would contaminate the meat.

Then he started cutting the carcass up into manageable chunks, the haunches, the ribs, and so forth. He ended up with kilos and kilos of valuable meat.

He had to cook them and cure them quickly, before the smell would attract bears. He also had to do it quickly, before the meat spoiled. Thankfully, the weather was cool and so it wouldn't spoil almost immediately.

He stepped away, carrying his precious meat.

"Wait," Zoë said, stopping him. She approached the carcass, and with practiced ease, removed its tusks. "Take these as thy spoil. Thou hath defeated thy enemy."

Harry accepted the tusks. "I… don't understand," he finally said, looking up at his teacher.

"When thou defeat a monster, thou receive a spoil of war. That this is a mortal creature makes no difference, thou should receive a spoil for it," she explained.

Harry just nodded, and pocketed the tusks. "Thanks, miss Zoë."

She remained silent, but he saw her dip her head in response. He carried the meat away from the butcher site, now poised to attract bears, and found a different spot, still far enough away from camp that a bear wouldn't go and wander through it.

With the blunt back of the useless spear, he dug a pit, before lining the bottom with stones. He built a fire on top of said stones, letting them heat up considerably. After the fire burnt itself out, he put the boar meat on top of the stones, covered it with green leaves from nearby plants, then covered the whole thing with dirt.

It would take about four hours to cook through.

While the meat cooked in his underground oven, Harry returned to camp, and built a wooden frame that he used to stretch out the boar hide to prevent it from shrinking as it dried. In a couple of days, he would be able to clean that, and make use of it.

By the time he was done with his frame, and stretching out the hide, his oven had almost done cooking, so he returned to it.

Opening it up, the smell made his mouth water. The first piece of meat he dug up was a leg, and he eagerly bit into it. The smile that appeared on his lips matched the contented noise that came out of his mouth as he chewed nice, hot, cooked, boar leg.

Filling his stomach, he dug up the rest of the meat and carried it all back to camp.

That night, he slept like a brick, fully sated, warm and dry and comfortable.

As good as he felt when he went to bed that night, so bad did he feel when he got up the next morning. First, he was stiff and sore from his fight with the boar. His bruises had come through completely, and no matter where or how he moved, at least one of them was impacted.

Secondly, Zeus had turned his anger loose on the world again, and thunderstorms plagued the mountains. Thankfully, the roof Harry had made for his fire was proving useful, and the fire kept burning.

All day, the rains drenched the environment, and Harry was forced to leave his warm and dry tent to collect more firewood. With the torrential rains, all the wood he found was wet, and wet wood simply didn't generate a lot of heat when burnt, not even with his Hestia-taught skills.

Thankfully, he had enough meat so he didn't have to go and forage. He could simply hole up and stare at the fire. And eat. And sometimes go and collect more firewood.

He tried reading the school books he had brought, but the storm plunged the forest into semi-darkness.

Harry didn't mind. He had plenty of food, and for once, didn't have to worry. He could spend his time gazing into the fire, or stare at the half-shaded forest through the curtain of rain. He was at peace.

He slept well that night, despite not having done anything other than collect firewood and stuff himself full of boar.

The next morning, the weather had changed again, and the sun was shining. Harry smiled at it – maybe he would have to make an offering to Mister Apollo at some point.

It was his last full day in the forest. Seven days. Tomorrow, his test would be over, and Zoë was going to take him back. He hoped that he had done well. He'd definitely survived, and even had it good, but he was also aware that he had made some major mistakes.

He started scraping the boar hide to remove any fat and tissues from it. As he worked, he thought about his performance. He'd prioritized the fire too much the first day or two, and it had left him extremely hungry. Too hungry, as he had eaten those dock roots, which had turned out to be problematic. He was lucky it had been a severe bout of diarrhea, and not something worse.

When he finished scraping the hide, and cut some holes in it and turned it into a makeshift vest. The boar's fur had a bristly top layer, and a very soft undercoat. It was also very warm. Harry grinned, he could have used his boarskin vest the first couple of days, when he had been cold and shivering in his tent.

He decided that he was going to make a feast of it tonight, to celebrate having it good and to celebrate his final evening in the woods. He went out and looked for edibles. He found a couple of handfuls of wood sorrel; like lettuce it contained flavor but few nutrients. He also collected more blueberries. He also found a dandelion or two.

Using his knife, he peeled some bark from a birch, and wrapped it tightly around a couple handfuls of freshly picked pine needles. That would make for a great candle.

By the time the evening fell, Harry had pulled a tree stump next to the fire for him to sit up, and had constructed a rudimentary table out of a second tree stump. He lit his improvised candle at the campfire, and stuck it in the middle of his 'table'.

On top of said improvised table was a salad of wood sorrel and dandelion leaves, a hunk of boar meat, blueberries and blueberry sauce, and a canteen full of pine needle tea.

He sat down, and was about to tuck in, when he looked at where Zoë had camped. He hadn't seen her eat or drink, so he assumed she was doing so out of his view so as to not tempt him. She was probably making do with some sort of rations, though.

"Miss Zoë?" he asked.

"Harry," she answered.

"Would you like to join me?" he asked, pointing to the other side of his 'table'. "I have plenty of boar meat left, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste."

Her first reaction was obviously to decline, he could see it. Preparing himself to eat alone, he could see her reconsider, before shrugging. "Why not?" she finally said, dragging her own tree stump over.

Harry grinned, and hurriedly put a second filet-o-boar near the fire to heat it up.

"A candle, Harry?" she commented as they waited for the meat to heat up.

Harry shrugged. "It's my last day here, I thought I'd try something different. I'm just glad it worked."

Zoë laughed softly. "'T would be a different atmosphere to eat in total darkness, I admit," she said.

They sat in companionable silence.

"The meat's almost ready," Harry said, judging the time with an expert's eye. "Let's start with our appetizer," he added, motioning for the salad made from wood sorrel, dandelions, and other assorted greens.

Zoë just nodded in amusement, and they divided the salad between them. Having planned for one, the salad was a bit small for the both of them, but neither said anything, as there was plenty of meat to come.

Having judged correctly, Harry served the boar meat. "There's blueberry sauce to go with it," Harry said, motioning for the cup holding the substance in question. Again, they divided between them.

Zoë definitely seemed to like his rustic cooking, as the blueberry sauce slathered boar meat vanished quickly.

Harry grinned. He loved it when people appreciated his food. He ate with gusto as well, and soon they had both finished.

Holding out a cup of blueberries, Harry asked, "Blueberry dessert?"

Zoë laughed, and picked a couple of blueberries out of the cup, leaving the rest for him.

They sat in silence again, listening to the sounds of the forest and the snapping of the wood in the fire.

As Harry sat, leaning back, looking up at the wide open skies, he was hit with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. Gratitude for the food he had gathered, gratitude for the forest, for the fire, for being able to experience this sensation.

He wondered if the gods could hear him.

He decided that it didn't matter. He closed his eyes. _Thanks everyone_.

Even Mister Zeus, he supposed. His thunderstorms had added challenge, but in the end, without the rains, nothing would grow.

Dragging himself out of his introspective mood, he found himself staring at the fire, with Zoë sitting on the other side, staring into the fire from the opposite side.

"Miss Zoë?" he asked.

Zoë visibly dragged herself out of her own thoughts. "Harry?" she answered.

He smiled slightly. "Hestia said you were one of Artie's first Hunters. Is that true?"

Zoë nodded. "Indeed. I have been with My Lady the longest out of all the Hunters."

The young boy looked amazed. "You must have seen a lot of history," he said.

The Hunter looked amused. "Is that thy way of asking my age? Thou should know never to ask a lady her age!"

Harry sputtered, that hadn't been his intention at all! "No, that wasn't what I asked at all!" he protested. "I just wanted to know if you were part of any large events in history!"

His teacher smiled faintly. "Not often," she replied. "My Lady doeth her best to keep us from harmful events." She thought for a few moments. "There is one tale that may interest thee," she added. "'t is how I learned to drive an automobile. During the second world war, us Hunters were tasked with evacuating innocent maidens from London during the Blitz. As such, I learnt to drive an automobile while evading exploding bombs."

Harry blinked. "Whoa," he admitted.

Zoë grinned, and elaborated on her tale. Being the first of Artemis' Hunters, having been with her through thick and thin for nigh on 2000 years, had given Zoë an exceptional skill in teaching. She was used to teaching Hunters, but Harry appeared to be no different, and as such enthralled him with her tale soon enough.

The next morning, he disassembled his camp, and followed Zoë back to the Hunter's camp using that unique speed-walking skill. Within minutes, they were back.

"Welcome back, old friend," Artie greeted Zoë after they had finished stowing the pack Harry had borrowed, and moving everything back to the small backpack he had originally arrived with. The goddess glanced down at Harry, and added, "Harry. You seem well."

He grinned, and gave the Goddess of the Hunt a hug. "Hi Artie," he said. "I _am_ well, too!"

Artie looked amused. "You look like you wrestled a bear."

"It was a boar," Harry replied, grinning. "It was delicious. Especially with blueberry sauce."

Artie blinked, and shot her Hunter a look. Zoë simply nodded. The goddess looked down at Harry again. "Well, then, it seems congratulations are in order."

"Thanks, Artie!" Harry chirped.

The goddess just dipped her head once, then looked at Zoë. "How is his evaluation?"

"He hath passed," she stated calmly, then turned to Harry. "Thou hath done well; the first rule of survival is always to survive. Thou survived, and did so well, so thou hath passed. Even if it was close at times."

Harry grinned widely. "Thanks, Miss Zoë!"

The Hunter didn't acknowledge his gratitude, and instead pressed on. "There were areas of improvement, however. Thou prioritized fire the first few days, leaving thee without food. Thou drank from a stream without boiling the water; understandable as thou hath no drunk in close to a day, however, it was a risk. Thou may need to get examined for parasites."

Harry nodded, but kept quiet.

"Thou hath also eaten multiple curly dock roots. While they are edible, and possess medicinal qualities, they should not be eaten in the quantities thou did, and it caused thee severe intestinal issues. No doubt the untreated water did not aid thee there, either."

The boy just nodded, looking at his feet. He had messed up, and he knew it.

"However, I was impressed with thy fortitude. Thou pushed on, and did not falter in thy test. 'T would have been easy for thee to abandon the test and return to seek aid. Thou did not. It was impressive."

Harry looked up, shyly, and offered a small smile. Zoë acted as if she did not notice, and said further, "Thou started looking for food in earnest, tracked a prey, set a trap, and spent the time needed for the trap to work with gathering more food. Thou improved drastically when thou had a full belly. Thou ended with plenty of food, allowing thee the time to wait out the storm, and to end the final day with a minor feast. Thou did well; remember thy priorities so thee do not end in starvation mode as that affects thy ability to reason, and thou should survive with nary a difficulty."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Miss Zoë."

The Hunter finally acknowledged his gratitude, then turned to Artie. "During the survival, Harry hath trapped a boar; it managed to escape the trap during his attempts to kill it. Afterwards, I questioned his decision not to bring a bow – to my surprise, he admitted that he did not possess one."

Artie nodded. "I am willing to teach him how to properly use a bow, however, I draw the line at actually providing him with one. He is male, and therefore, not a Hunter."

"I see," Zoë replied. "If that is thy will, My Lady."

"You don't agree?" Artie asked, actually sounding surprised.

The Hunter thought about her answer, and ended up saying, "I assumed, as thou art teaching Harry bow-skills, that thou wouldst be supplying him with a bow with which to do so, even if it were a conventional one. 'T would have greatly aided his test."

Artie just shrugged. "I won't stop him from getting a bow, I just won't be handing him one. If he wants one, he can go and get one. Same with a quiver and arrows. If he is willing to carry a mortal bow, a mortal quiver, and mortal arrows, I will not stop him."

Zoë dipped her head. "Of course, My Lady."

Harry, meanwhile, nodded eagerly. He didn't know where he could get a bow, a quiver, or arrows from, but if he could get them, Artie wasn't going to stop him. Then again, a bow, a quiver, and arrows were heavy and bulky and they would hinder him from carrying the Hunter's pack he had borrowed. He'd have to think things through.

Zoë turned to Harry as he was thinking, and had the tiny smile on her lips that showed she knew exactly what he was thinking. "I do believe it is time for thee to return. Lady Hestia no doubt will wish to see thee, and congratulate thee on a successful test on basic survival."

Harry grinned at the thought of seeing Hestia, and made to turn. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, reaching down to remove the hunting knife and its sheath from his belt. "I still have this."

Zoë held up her hand. "Thou can keep it. Thou hath shown that thou can use it properly, and it hath saved thine life, so I see no reason not to give it to thee."

Harry's smile widened. "Thanks, Miss Zoë!" he shouted. He made half a step, reconsidered, and opened his arms wide. "Celebratory hug?" he offered hopefully.

The Hunter looked amused, and extended her fight hand. "Celebratory handshake," she offered in return. Harry grinned, and shook her hand.

"Thanks, Miss Zoë," he repeated, before turning, and giving Artie a big hug. "Thanks, Artie." He turned to the camp fire, and waved over his shoulder. "See you soon!"

The fire turned green, and Harry vanished through it before either could respond.

He arrived at Helios' temple, and started to make his way to the front, where he could properly greet the statue of Helios. He made it halfway there before the hearth whooshed behind him.

"Hi Hestia! I'm in here!" he said loudly, while confronting Helios' statue. "Hi Mister Helios. I'm back! And I passed!"

Helios' presence enveloped him for a moment, as if in congratulations, then eased off when Hestia arrived.

"Hi Hestia," Harry greeted again, giving his all-time favorite goddess a big hug. He'd missed her a lot.

She hugged him back. "Hello Harry," she said, on her usual gentle tone. Harry luxuriated in the sensation of warmth, comfort, and protection that came with a real Hestia Hug.

She pulled back. "Now, how did your test go, and why do you look like you've been in a fight?" the Goddess of the Hearth asked, smiling slightly.

Harry grinned, and started explaining as he unpacked his backpack, and started putting things away, either in his bathroom, or in the laundry hamper.

He finished his tale with, "And Miss Zoë said I passed! Even if I messed up my priorities at the start."

Hestia was nodding thoughtfully. "I see," she said, after a moment of pause. It surprised Harry, as she was usually more involved with his progress. The kind goddess touched his shoulder, and the aches and pains of his cuts and bruises vanished. He remembered her saying she could heal minor wounds.

"Congratulations on passing your test, Harry," she finally said, smiling softly.

"Thanks, Hestia!" Harry said, feeling proud of his accomplishments. He felt a bid bad about not being able to study for school, but he really had been very busy with just surviving. It was a lot more work than he thought it would be, and his respect for the old hunter-gatherers had climbed sharply.

"We should visit Apollo and make sure you're fit and healthy," Hestia then said, dragging his thoughts back to the present. "And then I will take you to camp, to see if you are interested in some other hobbies instead of playing in the woods with Artie and her Hunters."

Harry blinked. "Huh?"

Hestia patted his shoulder, and gave him that patented gentle smile of hers. "While I don't mind you playing in the woods with Artie and her Hunters, I do get upset when it leaves you injured, and potentially infected with… things."

Harry frowned. "But it's not playing! It's hard work! And it just may keep me alive when things fall apart, and I'm on my own."

Hestia had somehow gotten him to the large front doors of the temple without him realizing it, his feet just following her where here gentle yet insistent direction indicated he should go. "While a useful skill, I'm not enthused about you being exposed to parasites or pathogens. Let's see if Apollo can clear those up."

"But Hestia..." Harry whined in protest, in a way he'd never would have dared with his Aunt and Uncle.

Hestia smiled faintly at hearing it; it looked like he was starting to learn to stand up for himself. Good. She wouldn't really stop him from spending time with Artemis and her Hunters, but that didn't mean it wasn't time for her to introduce him to camp and broaden his horizons.

"We shall see," she replied neutrally, inwardly pleased about the fact that he was acting like an average eight year old, finally. "First, we shall visit Apollo and make sure you're healthy."

"Yes, Hestia," Harry pouted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 6**

Hestia had her customary smile when she rapped on the door leading to a blindingly bright golden temple. Harry had to squint and half-look away to avoid going blind with the brightness of it.

Harry looked away, focusing on his favorite goddess. They waited in silence.

The young boy was just about to speak, when the doors were flung open.

"Aunt Hestia!" the jovial God of the Sun shouted in his godly form of 3 meters tall. "And young Harry," he added, when he saw that she wasn't alone. "Come in, come in."

"Thank you, Apollo," Hestia said, aiming her smile the god's way.

Harry gratefully stepped inside the temple, where the light was more subdued. There was still lots of gold, but most of the light seemed to be reflecting off it in a softer, golden palate. The young boy blinked, trying to clear the spots from his vision from the harsh white light outside.

"Have a seat," the golden god said, indicating the couches in a living area. They were aimed at gods and made Harry feel like he was an infant, right before the furniture resized itself to suit mortals, and the god himself shrunk to a mortal form. "Can I get you anything?"

"I will have some of that tea, if you have it," Hestia said.

Harry sat down himself, and fidgeted slightly when the sun god focused on him. What was he supposed to ask for? Was he even _supposed_ to ask for anything? The god seemed friendly, and Hestia was on good terms with him, so Harry wanted to be on his best behavior. He didn't want to cause Hestia any issues.

He wished he'd had time to ask her before she had dragged him here.

"Anything at all, kiddo," Apollo said with an easy grin. "Anyone who's on Aunt Hestia's good side is on mine," he added with a laugh.

That implied that, if he ever got on Hestia's bad side, the sun god would be aiming for him. Harry returned the god's smile, he could understand that. "Do you have a soda, Mister Apollo?" he asked politely.

The god laughed. "Any kind you want, kiddo."

Harry glanced at Hestia, who kept her smile up. "I managed to get a Mountain Dew while I was on my own in New York," he told Apollo. "I liked it a lot – do you have any?"

The god laughed. "Of course, Harry. I'll be right back!" he vanished in a shower of golden light, drawing an impressed sound from Harry.

Hestia laughed softly. "Apollo is a showman, you don't want to look too impressed or he'll spend all day entertaining you."

Harry nodded softly, then looked around, shifting uncomfortably.

"Relax," Hestia said calmly. "Apollo is a relaxed god. He's a bit susceptible to flattery, but he isn't going to start cursing or smiting unless you _really_ upset him. Be your normal self, and everything will be fine."

"Oh. Okay," Harry said, feeling something inside of him relax. How did Hestia keep managing to relax him with just a few words? Sometimes just her presence was enough to ease his anxiety.

The god returned, bearing a pot of tea, two cups, a glass, and a frosted-over can of ice-cold Mountain Dew. He poured drinks, then sat down and relaxed. "So, what brings you to my humble temple, Aunt Hestia? With your new ward, no less."

Hestia smiled softly, sipped the tea, and allowed her smile to widen. "Excellent tea," she replied instead.

Apollo grinned. "Only the best for you, Aunt Hestia. You know that. Straight from the Orient."

Harry gaped at the God of the Sun; did he just imply that he went to the Far East for a cup of tea? In such a short amount of time?

Apollo grinned at Harry's look. "God of the Sun, kiddo. Speed of Light and all that."

"Whoa," Harry breathed, impressed.

The Sun God smiled wider, enjoying the boy's look. He looked back at Hestia, who was enjoying her cup of tea.

"I came for a bit of a favor," the Goddess of Home and Hearth finally said. "Harry has been playing in the woods with Artie and her lieutenant, and I'm afraid that he may have picked something up when he drank out of a river."

Apollo blinked, then looked at Harry. "Spending time with my little sister and her Hunters, have we, Harry?" he asked with a teasing tone.

Harry crossed his arms, feeling defensive all of a sudden. "Artie is awesome, and so is Miss Zoë. They've been teaching me to survive on my own."

Apollo's grin widened. "It's a rare man who can get away with calling my little sis a name like that," he said, shifting closer to Harry. "You may want to tell me your secret."

Harry frowned. "What secret?" he asked in confusion, looking at Hestia, who seemed content with her cup of tea and gave no reaction. "Artie's just awesome." He thought of something, and his frown deepened. "Mister Apollo?"

"Yeah, kiddo?" the Sun God said, still focused on the young boy.

"I thought I read in the book Hestia gave me that you and Artie were twins. And that she was born first. But you say she's your little sister. Was the book wrong?" he asked, tentatively, hoping he wasn't offending the jovial god.

Apollo laughed, and suddenly he was right next to Harry, and had thrown an arm around the young boy's shoulders. The moment the god did so, Harry felt better than he had ever felt, like pains he didn't even know he had were suddenly gone. "There comes a time in a man's life, young Harry, that he must look out for his sister. Even if she is, technically, older," the Sun God explained.

Harry looked confused. Artie could look out for herself; she was kick-ass and awesome. Then again, he realized, even the most awesome people needed someone to rely on sometimes. Maybe that was what Mister Apollo was trying to tell him in a rather roundabout way.

He just nodded instead.

"Good!" Apollo said, grinning. "Now, about that checkup that Aunt Hestia has asked for. I'm afraid to tell you, Harry..." he trailed off dramatically, causing the boy to pale and Hestia to look up, sharply. "That you are absolutely fine."

Harry released his breath, and Hestia shot the Sun God a venomous look, which was soon replaced with a shake of her head and a look of obvious tolerance.

"That water must have been free-flowing, and from an area without a lot of habitation," Apollo told Hestia. "Young Harry was in no more trouble drinking it untreated as he was from drinking bottled water."

"Miss Zoë took me to some forest in the mountains for my survival test, Mister Apollo," Harry offered. "And it was a fast-flowing stream, which is why I risked it. I was just so thirsty."

"Miss Zoë, eh, Harry?" Apollo teased. "Did someone manage to worm his way into the man-hating heart of my sister's lieutenant?"

Harry frowned. "Miss Zoë's awesome," he repeated. "And my friend. Sorta. She teaches me a lot of things, and she looks out for me so I don't get myself killed. She's really cool."

Apollo's grin widened as Harry's speech continued. He exchanged an amused look with Hestia, before turning back to the young boy. "It sounds like someone has a crush."

"A what?" Harry asked, confused.

"A crush," Apollo repeated, grinning widely. "It's perfectly normal for young boys to get a crush on their female teacher."

Harry's confusion deepened, before he thought he understood what Apollo was implying. "Is that like kissing? Because that's gross! Are you some kind of pervert?"

The Sun God spluttered at the reply, while Hestia laughed. "Apollo is quite partial to the carnal arts, but at least he isn't married." she confirmed to Harry, who had to puzzle out Hestia's strangely formal words. He took them to mean 'yes, he's a pervert, but he isn't cheating on anyone'.

"Aunt Hestia!" Apollo protested.

Hestia didn't reply, and merely lifted an eyebrow at the Sun God, as if asking "am I wrong?"

The god sunk in his plush sofa, pouting.

Harry rather liked him, and felt bad about seeing Apollo pouting. He reached over, and patted the god's elbow. "There, there, Mister Apollo. At least you're better than Mister Zeus, who is cheating on poor Miss Hera."

Apollo was thrown out of his theatrical pout at the sound of a _demigod_ actually saying the words 'poor Miss Hera' and actually _mean_ them. The Queen of the Gods was usually a demigod's biggest enemy, born as they were as a slight against her domain.

He shook his head once to clear his mind of the thought, then gave the young boy a smile. "Thanks for worrying about me, Harry," he said, patting the hand that was still on his elbow. He leaned closer to the boy, and said on a low, conspiratorial tone, "are you sure you don't have a crush? Because you wouldn't be the first man who would like a kiss from my sis. Or from Zoë, now that I think about it."

Harry's nose scrunched. "Ew! First, Miss Zoë would kill me, and then Artie would curse me. And second, ew! Kissing girls is disgusting!"

Apollo laughed at Harry's reaction. "You'll change your mind sometime, Harry," the Sun God teased.

Harry shook his head. "Nu-uh. No way. Hugging's fine, but kissing is just gross."

"I am so reminding you of this conversation in ten years," the god said, grinning widely.

"Apollo, you can stop teasing Harry now," Hestia admonished gently. "Before you push him too far. For now, let him just enjoy his time with Artie and her lieutenant."

The sun god seemed to _dim_ for the lack of a better word, but nodded anyway. "Alright, Aunt Hestia."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. The god seemed friendly enough, but the way he spoke about Artie and Miss Zoë wasn't very nice. He wondered how they would react if he told them about this.

The god heard Harry's sigh, and looked at him. "So you get along with my Sis, huh? That's very unusual."

Harry shrugged. "I like Artie. She's awesome. I just need to be careful what I say, because she'll take things as a challenge and get mad at me." He frowned slightly. "And she's stingy."

Apollo blinked, having expected the first part, but not the second. His sister had been called many things, but _stingy_ usually wasn't one of them. "Stingy?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "She's teaching me how to shoot a bow, but she won't let me keep it. Her Hunters all have awesome bows that appear and disappear whenever they want to, but she won't give me one. She won't even give me a mortal one, she said so to Miss Zoë when Miss Zoë told her how much better my test would have gone if I had a bow. Artie did say she'd let me keep it if I got a mortal bow, quiver, and arrows – she just won't give them to me herself. So she's stingy."

Apollo laughed. "That's my little sis for you," he said. "Disliking males and not letting them forget it, even for a moment."

Harry shrugged. "I don't think she doesn't like men, or me," he said. "She's teaching me when she can, and is letting Miss Zoë teach me when she can't. I just think she's trying to convince me to let her change me into a girl so I can become a Hunter."

Apollo laughed again. "I wouldn't put it past her," he said, still snickering. "You should feel honored, though. There aren't a lot of men that my sister… likes… well enough to even offer to turn them. And even fewer who can get away with refusing."

Harry looked confused again. Artie was nice, and Apollo made her sound very bad. "Artie's nice," he defended his second favorite goddess. "She wouldn't hurt me unless I did something really stupid. She'd never hurt me for not letting her change me."

Apollo grinned. "If you say so, kiddo," he said, tussling Harry's unruly hair. Picking up on what Harry said earlier, he added, "Unfortunately, while I _am_ a God of Archery, I can't just give you an enchanted bow either. Those are reserved for my own kids. But I _can_ do this."

He snapped his fingers, and held out a bow and a quiver full of arrows. "Those are mortal, though. That quiver will run out of arrows if you shoot them all, so you'll want to be careful what you use it on."

Harry smiled widely. "Whoa! Thanks, Mister Apollo!" He quickly gave the god a big hug, then checked out his new gifts.

The God of the Sun smiled widely, and glanced at Hestia, who didn't seem to be able to choose between resigned at Apollo taking a chance to show up Artemis, and upset at Harry having something else to hurt himself with. She sighed, and let resignation take over. She couldn't fault Apollo for wanting to show off to Harry and show up Artemis, not after hearing Harry's story. Truth be told, she thought Artie had been a bit stingy herself. What harm could it do to give the boy a bow, especially now that he, apparently, somewhat knew how to use one without injuring himself or others.

"These are brilliant!" Harry decided, after having stood up and fully drawn the bow. It was a bit heavier on the draw than the one Artie usually conjured for him, but it was not that big of a deal after all the time he had spent training.

Apollo smiled. "You're most welcome, Harry," he said.

Hestia finished her tea. "Thank you for giving Harry a look-over, Apollo. It's still daytime so I know how busy you are."

Apollo chuckled nervously, shiftily looking away. "Heh. Yeah, busy," he laughed awkwardly, looking away from both Harry and Hestia. The young boy glanced at Hestia, who had a rather tolerant smile on her face. Harry found he was getting better at identifying Hestia's many, _many_ different smiles.

"We should let you get back to work, then," the Goddess of the Hearth said, her smile getting more genuine. "Thank you again, Apollo."

The Sun God grinned. "You're most welcome, Aunt Hestia." He tussled Harry's hair. "I'm glad you're alright, though, kiddo."

Harry smiled up at the god. Apart from the god saying strange things about Artie and Zoë, he rather liked Apollo; he was nice and helpful. "Thanks for the bow and the quiver of arrows, Mister Apollo," he told the god, giving him another hug. Apollo grinned, and hugged back.

"You're most welcome, kiddo."

Harry was smiling widely as they left the Sun god's temple. That was the fourth god he'd gotten to hug. Hestia's hugs felt warm and protective. Artie's felt like wild open country, thick forests, and the clean air of nature. Poseidon's hug, brief though it was, smelt like the sea and the wild, overwhelming sensation of _pure freedom_. Apollo, on the other hand, had felt hot and bright, and he felt as if all his wounds would heal.

He wondered if Miss Zoë would ever let him hug her, he wondered if hugs from mortals had a feeling associated with them as well.

"I will have a small chat with Chiron and see if I can bring you to camp this afternoon," Hestia said, interrupting Harry's internal debate on the merits and demerits of hugs from the various gods.

"Okay, Hestia," Harry said. Part of him was looking forward to the trip, and part of him was dreading it. Hestia had said that demigods weren't allowed to leave the camp, and he didn't like the thought of being locked up somewhere. He wanted to be able to just walk out when adults got too bad.

"Are you sure they won't try and keep me there?" Harry asked as they walked the roads of Olympus back to Helios' temple. "I mean, they may know of a way to keep me from traveling by fire."

Hestia smiled gently and supportively at him, then patted his shoulder. He immediately felt better – Hestia's unique skills at work, no doubt. "Don't worry, Harry. As long as you have my favor, you will always be able to travel through fire."

Harry looked at her. "Promise?"

Her smiled widened. "I promise," she replied.

The boy nodded in acceptance. He trusted Hestia. "Thanks, Hestia."

"You're most welcome," she said, her smile warming his heart.

00000

That afternoon, when Hestia emerged from the fire, Harry was ready to visit camp. He had his new bow thrown over one shoulder, and his quiver filled with arrows held over his other shoulder. He knew they had an archery range, and he was hoping to get to test out his new gifts.

He was also carrying a mystery container, a small Tupperware box that was completely opaque. Hestia was curious, but did not pry. If Harry wanted to tell her, he would tell her.

"I have talked with Chiron, and there is no problem with you getting a tour of the camp," the Goddess of the Home told her young charge.

Harry just nodded, feeling rather nervous all of a sudden. It felt like the first day at school, and he wondered how the other demigods would react to him. Would they be nice to him? Would they be like the kids in school, and be nasty?

Hestia smiled in a comforting manner, and guided him to the hearth. Subconsciously, he stepped closer to her, as if trying to hide in her shadow. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, after all. But then again, it was _Hestia_ who wanted him to visit, and she wouldn't steer him wrong, would she?

The by now familiar warmth of the fire enveloped him, taking from the hearth in Helios' Temple to a large bonfire that was burning in the middle of a courtyard, about the size of a soccer field, dotted with greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops.

Around the commons area stood, in a U shape, twelve cabins.

Harry ignored the classic greek architecture – that looked brand-spanking new – and focused instead on the solitary figure waiting for them.

After all, said waiting figure was an actual centaur! He wasn't as tall as the gods in their godly forms, but to a young boy, Chiron definitely was tall. And mythical. No matter how many times he had read about centaurs, seeing one in the actual flesh was a completely different thing.

"Chiron," Hestia greeted kindly, stepping up to the Teacher of Heroes, and clasping his hand warmly. "Thank you for allowing this."

The centaur replied in a calm voice. "It was but a minor thing, Lady Hestia. It is my utmost pleasure to show around someone who has caught your eye."

"Harry?" Hestia said, looking at the boy who was still looking up at the tall centaur. "This is Chiron. Chiron, this is Harry Potter."

"Hello, young Harry," Chiron greeted warmly.

Harry smiled abashedly at having stared, and offered his hand. "Hello Mister Chiron. Thanks for letting me look around."

Chiron chuckled, clasping the offered hand. "Just 'Chiron' will do, young one. And as I said to Lady Hestia, it's my pleasure."

Harry looked up at Chiron. "Hestia wanted me to have other hobbies; she thinks I spend too much time with Artie and her Hunters."

Chiron _gaped_, for the lack of a better word, at the young boy in front of him. "I am assuming you are referring to Lady Artemis?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Artie's awesome. So's Miss Zoë."

"Lad, you are a far braver man than most to dare call the Goddess of the Hunt such a name," Chiron said, shaking his head softly. "You may want to be careful about who hears you do so, in case it gets back to her."

Harry frowned, not understanding the warning. Chiron, realizing this, explained, "I doubt Lady Artemis would be pleased if she knew."

Harry grinned. "I always call her Artie. She doesn't mind, Mister Chiron."

Chiron blinked in astonishment, before shaking his head again, as if trying to clear it. "Just 'Chiron' will do, lad," he repeated, gratefully grabbing the lifeline thrown to him and trying to change the subject. He looked at Hestia, as if trying to confirm what he had just been told. The Goddess of the Home smiled serenely, and merely nodded in confirmation.

"Well… yes..." Chiron went on, now blatantly changing the subject. "These are the various cabins for the Olympians," he explained, rather needlessly in Harry's opinion.

The young boy smiled at the fire in the center, always happy to have one nearby. The fire itself seemed to dance at the boy's attention.

Harry then shifted his gaze to the various cabins. He could make out the majority of their owners, just from the sight of them. The large, ostentatious, bank-like one was probably Mister Zeus', and the slightly smaller one standing right next to it would probably be Miss Hera's.

The one built by the water was probably Mister Poseidon's. Most of them were obvious, he thought – the bright neon-pink one was definitely Miss Aphrodite's.

"There's still no cabin for you, Hestia," he noted sadly.

Said goddess just smiled at him. "I have told you before, Harry, I do not need one. I do appreciate the thought, though."

Harry crossed his arms, and pouted. "Neither does Miss Hera, and she has one," he replied on a 'so there' tone that seemed ingrained in small children. Hestia just laughed, and patted his shoulder.

Chiron was smiling too. He held a bit of a soft spot for Hestia, who freely came to help out with the camp fire, yet never asked for anything in return. Seeing her interact so freely with a demigod made him smile.

Harry looked at one cabin. "Is that Artie's cabin?"

Chiron nodded, somewhat reluctantly. "Yes, it is, lad, but you may want to… be… careful..." he trailed off when Harry smiled widely and approached the cabin in question. In the distance, a couple of other demigods stopped and stared as they saw the young boy essentially commit suicide-by-Artemis.

He stopped just before climbing on to the porch, feeling part of the goddess' presence disapproving of his action. "Hi Artie, it's me!" he said, waving at the cabin. "Would it be ok if I took a look at the cabin, or is it just reserved for the Hunters?"

The presence didn't let up, and Harry nodded. "Alright, no problem, Artie," he said, still grinning. "I'll just go on with the tour now." He turned, and started to walk back to an amused looking Hestia, and a worried looking Chiron, before stopping, and looking at the cabin again. "Artie? Chiron seems really scared of you, and this morning, Hestia took me to see Mister Apollo, and he said some rather strange things about you. I don't get it, you're nice most of the time, but everyone's really surprised when I call you 'Artie'."

The presence didn't change, but there seemed to be an underlying current of _something_. Something that didn't bode well for a certain Sun God. "I hope you're not mad or anything, Artie. I don't like it when you get mad." He grinned, and immediately said, "no, I won't let you turn me into a girl without a chance to turn back if I don't like it."

The presence of Artie seemed to _sulk_ for a moment, before turning disapproving again. Harry grinned. "I won't try and look at your cabin, don't worry." He turned back to wards Chiron and Hestia, and walked away. He waved over his shoulder. "Bye Artie."

Chiron was staring at him again. Harry didn't like it. In the distance, the two demigods that had been watching him approach the Artemis cabin were staring, too, before breaking into a run.

"Let's continue the tour, lad," Chiron said, breaking his unusually intense stare. Harry just nodded, feeling uncomfortable. He wished he could be rude, fire-travel away, and just go talk to Artie in person, and find out why everyone was so afraid of her. She wasn't like that at all. She could be angry, sure, but she wasn't as nasty as everyone thought she was. He really wanted to find out why.

"That is the Big House," Chiron said, unnecessarily pointing out the biggest building on the site. It was four stories tall, trimmed in white, and looked like it could be a resort building. On its roof stood a proud, brass, eagle weather vane. "That is where the camp director lives, and where the infirmary is located," the Teacher of Heroes explained.

"That's Mister Dionysus, right Chiron?" Harry asked.

Chiron nodded. "Exactly right, Harry. We may want to give him a pass."

Harry frowned, holding up the mystery container. "Is he ill? I brought him something that I thought he'd like, but if he's ill, I'll just leave it with you."

The centaur managed to hide his surprise quite quickly. "Well… if you're sure," he said, trotting up the steps to the large wrap-around balcony.

"Mister D?" he asked, rapping on the door. "You have a visitor."

Sounds of stumbling came from inside, and from years of experience analyzing footsteps through his cupboard door, Harry was able to tell that the person on the other side was definitely not happy.

"Who is it?" he asked, snapping the door open, eyes seeking out first Chiron, then focusing on Hestia and Harry.

"Ah, Hestia," he said. "And Haran. Splendid surprise. Just splendid," the God of Wine muttered sarcastically.

Harry smiled up at the god. "I remember our conversation from last time, Mister Dionysus. So I made you something." He pulled the lid off the container, and held it up for the god like some kind of offering.

The bulky god looked at the container, started to twitch his nose, but then smelled the offered food item. Carefully, he picked the container out of the boy's hands, sniffed it again, then materialized a fork.

Dionysus didn't just _eat_. He _devoured_.

His red-colored nose colored deeper. "Splendid," he repeated his earlier statement, but this time he actually seemed to mean it.

Harry grinned. "I'm glad you like it, Mister Dionysus. Mister Zeus was quite naughty-" Harry broke off his sentence when thunder rumbled in the distance.

"The gods listen closer here," Hestia informed him. Harry nodded; another thing he didn't like. Mister Zeus shouldn't be eavesdropping. It was a very bad thing to do.

"Alright, eh… you-know-who told you that you couldn't drink alcohol, so I thought I'd make something to cheer you up," the boy told the god, who was smiling widely.

"It was excellent. How much of it can you make in a day, boy?" Dionysus asked, leaning closer.

Hestia cleared her throat. "You wouldn't be trying to take advantage of young Harry, now would you Dionysus?" she asked, sternly.

The god of wine seemed to shrink at her tone. "Not at all, Hestia. Not at all. But, you're right. The boy's young. I should hire a desert chef." He snapped his fingers and vanished, leaving the sweet scent of grapes behind.

"What did you make, Harry?" Hestia asked, turning on the boy, looking stern.

"Tiramisu," he replied contritely. "I mean, I remember our talk about alcohol and all, so I thought maybe it could help Mister Dionysus."

Hestia had her eyes closed, pinching the bridge of her nose, and made curious noises that were either muffled laughs, or muffled cries. Chiron, on the other hand, was snickering openly.

"Harry," Hestia finally said, having regained her composure. "I don't know whether to proud of you for figuring out a loophole nobody else has found, or horrified that would actually go looking for a loophole in an order given by the King of the Gods."

Harry just smiled widely. "Eating isn't drinking," he said. "It was obvious."

"Are we sure the lad isn't one of Athena's?" Chiron asked.

"He doesn't have her eyes, and she is so very protective of her babies that she wouldn't have sided against him on the Solstice," Hestia replied with a small shake of her head. "He's just clever, that's all."

Harry just grinned at the compliment. "Sometimes, too clever," she added, making his grin vanish.

"Yes, well," Chiron said, drawing attention to himself. "It is still impressively done." Harry gave him a relived smile. The centaur gave him a surreptitious wink.

"Perhaps," Hestia said, giving Harry a small look, showing that she had caught Chiron's attempt, but was willing to go along with it.

"This is a good place to see the camp from, lad," Chiron said, drawing Harry's attention away from Hestia and back to the camp. Harry leaned on the porch's railing, and beheld the compound.

The landscape was dotted with buildings, including an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena, a volleyball court, a small lake had canoes gliding over its surface, there was an archery range that made Harry's fingers twitch towards the bow he was carrying. That one was definitely something he wanted to check out further. He looked further, and saw some campers riding horses on a wooded trail. Horses with wings.

Harry grinned. Pegasuses. Or was that Pegasi?

"Let's get on with the tour," Chiron said, waving them on. It was a good thing, too, because the scenery was so peaceful that Harry could have stayed up here all afternoon.

As they walked, they passed the volleyball pit. Some of the campers had been playing, but stopped and stared when the trio walked passed them. Harry shrunk back; he didn't like being at the center of attention like this, and wished desperately that he could hide in Hestia's shadow.

"Don't worry, Harry. They may stare, but they have good hearts," Chiron reassured the boy. "Well, mostly," he corrected himself. "Demigods are mortals, after all, so you find all shapes and sizes."

Harry just nodded shyly. Everyone here was way older than him, dressed in those strange orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts that irked Harry. He may be a demigod, but he wasn't a half blood. It sounded demeaning.

They walked through the strawberry fields that surrounded the Big House, where more campers were picking bushels of the fruit. They looked really good strawberries, too. "Mister Dionysus?" Harry asked.

Chiron smiled, proudly. "Exactly right, Harry. He has a way with fruit-bearing plants. It pays our expenses quite nicely."

Harry just nodded, and stopped to listen for just a few moments to a half-goat, half-man with horns on his head, playing the reed pipes. It sounded quite nice, in his opinion. "The satyrs' woodland magic is very good at pest control," Chiron explained, pointing to a line of bugs, fleeing as if faced with a flood.

"Come on, Harry," Chiron said, when it became apparent that Harry would be content to just stand here and listen to the satyr play all day. "From your statements about Lady Artemis, I think you will enjoy seeing the surrounding forest."

Harry drew his attention away, and nodded eagerly. Hestia just sighed theatrically. "And I wanted him away from playing in the woods," she said, teasingly.

The young boy pouted at her. "But I like the woods. And being able to take care of myself when things get bad."

Hestia hugged him. "I know, Harry. I was just teasing you."

He hugged her back. By now, they had reached the forest, and Harry couldn't help but grin. The forest was nicely sized, taking up about a quarter of the valley. "The forest is fully stocked with game animals, if you want to try your luck, but you may want to be armed with more than just a bow and arrows, just in case," Chiron explained.

"Just in case of what?" Harry asked, confused.

"Monsters, Harry," Hestia explained. "Monsters come after demigods. Sometimes, one is let in through the protective barriers."

Harry looked confused. "I never had real monsters come after me. Human monsters, yes, but not real monster-monsters."

"Which is a very surprising fact, and something that we will need to investigate at some point," Hestia said, smiling faintly. "Not that it matters while you're up on Olympus."

"We may want to get you a sword and shield anyway," Chiron said. "We can stop by the armory and see what fits you. You're still young, so probably a size one or size two."

Harry shrugged. "I don't like fighting," he said. "Someone always gets hurt. Usually me. I don't mind hunting with a bow, but I don't like fighting. Like Hestia, she doesn't like fighting either."

Hestia smiled softly at him, clasping his shoulder. Chiron nodded silently, thinking. Finally, he said, "While noble, Harry, there may come a time when you have to protect either yourself or others, and knowing a thing or two about protecting yourself will come in handy."

Harry thought about that. Chiron grinned, and clapped the boy on his free shoulder. "But you don't need to make a decision right this instant, so let's move on with the tour."

They walked past the arena, where the campers held sword and spear fights. Harry frowned; he definitely didn't like fighting, and it sounded like this camp was all geared towards teaching people to fight. Even with Chiron's fancy words about protecting people, it was still fighting.

"Don't worry, Harry," Chiron said, misinterpreting Harry's frown. "They're just the normal inter-cabin challenges; they're not lethal. Usually, anyway."

Harry's frown deepened, that wasn't making it sound any better. If people could just challenge each other, it wasn't really about protecting, now was it?

"Here's the archery range," Chiron said, rather pointlessly, as the targets were a dead giveaway.

There were a couple of blonde teenagers practicing their archery, and from what Harry could see, they were incredibly good at it, too.

"Hey Chiron," the oldest teenager greeted the trainer, before recognizing Hestia, and executing a small bow. "Lady Hestia," he said, causing her to smile warmly back at the camper. The blond teen looked at the centaur. "New camper?" he asked.

Chiron shook his head. "Hello Louis. No, Harry is just… visiting. Harry, this is Louis Harper, son of Apollo. Louis, this is Harry Potter."

Louis smiled in a way that reminded Harry of the Sun God. "Well now, isn't that interesting?" he asked semi-out loud. He turned fully to face Harry. "Welcome to camp, even if you're just visiting. I'm Louis. Obviously."

Harry smiled back, laughed softly, and grabbed the offered hand. "Thanks," he answered. "I'm Harry. Also obviously."

Louis laughed, and put a hand on the young boy's shoulder. "I like you," he decided. "I see you're carrying a bow and quiver. Want to have a go?"

Harry glanced at Hestia, who made a shooing motion, before turning to engage Chiron in a hushed conversation.

"Sure!" Harry said, smiling widely. It was something he was looking forward to, and why he brought the bow and arrows in the first place. Louis guided him to where the other two teens where practicing. Now that he came closer, the two teens were twins, they looked exactly the same!

"Guys, meet Harry. Harry, these are the guys. Guys, Harry's just 'visiting' according to Chiron, and judging from how Lady Hestia's with him, I'm not going to argue."

"Hi Harry!" the two other boys chirruped in a way that was obviously practiced.

Harry grinned, he liked them. "Hi guys," he greeted, grinning. The twins laughed.

"They're Jack and Jim. Nobody can keep them apart, and they're doing their best to keep it that way. So when you see them, just say 'guys' and address them both. Ruins their fun," Louis said, laughing softly.

The twin pouted at the older teen, who ignored them easily. "So, Harry, why the bow?" he asked.

Harry grinned. "Artie's been teaching me to use a bow, but she's stingy and wouldn't give me a bow of my own because I'm a boy. This morning, Hestia took me to see your dad, and we started talking, so I explained about what happened. He gave me the bow and quiver of arrows, but said they were just mortal ones as the special ones are reserved for you guys."

The three boys stared at him for a moment, before Louis cleared his throat. "Right. Let's see if the boy with brass balls the size of beach balls can shoot a bow," he said, aiming Harry for the range.

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked, looking at the older boy.

Louis looked down, his face utterly serious. "Anyone who calls Lady Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt, with an affectionate nickname has brass balls the size of beach balls."

Harry stopped letting the older boy push him into position. "Not you too! Artie's cool, she's awesome, and she's taught me a lot. Everyone's scared of her, but she's _not that bad_!" Harry didn't have many friends, so he was going to stand up for the few that he had.

Louis stopped, and sighed. "Harry," he said, still on that serious tone. "Lady Artemis hates men. She has transformed men into animals for far less than calling her with a nickname – affectionate or not. She's dangerous. Utterly so."

Harry frowned. "She gets mad sometimes," the young boy said. "But honestly, she's not that bad. Just don't ever ask if it's possible to become as good as her with a bow. She'll take it as a challenge and get really mad at you. Other than that, she's awesome."

Louis blinked. "Harry, she has transformed men for the simple problem of them stumbling across her while bathing."

Harry stared at Louis for a few moments, digesting that. "That's awful."

"I know," Louis said. "Poor guy."

The young boy blinked, then frowned. "No, I mean, him peeping on her. No wonder she cursed him."

The older son of Apollo shook his head. "The guy was just taking a walk. It wasn't his intention, he just came across her."

The young boy shook his head. "I just spent the last week in the woods for my first survival test. Miss Zoë was with me, to make sure I didn't hurt myself. Too much, anyway. I offered to stay in camp so she could bathe. She told me that the Hunters have ways of getting clean. If the Hunters can do it without getting seen, then Artie _certainly_ can. That means the guy didn't stumble across her – he went looking for her." He crossed his arms. "He's a pervert. He got what was coming to him."

Louis gaped for a few moments, then managed to close his mouth. "That… explains a fair bit," he said, then shook his head. "Come, let's see you shoot before you turn the rest of my world upside down."

Harry grinned, took his position, got into the stance Artie had taught him, and took an arrow from his quiver.

Louis let out an impressed whistle. One of the guys said to his twin, "Look at that."

Harry stopped, and looked questioningly at the older teen.

Louis smiled. "That's one hell of a stance. It took me a lot of work to get it right."

The young boy grinned. "Artie taught me. It took me weeks before she'd stop correcting me."

The older son of Apollo shook his head. "Of course the Goddess of the Hunt would be an excellent teacher," he said.

Harry grinned, and nodded. He turned back to the target, and nocked the arrow he still had in his hand. He drew his bow, using the breath-control Artie had taught him, aimed, and fired.

Fwip.

Thwack.

His arrow was just off to the side of the bulls eye. He grunted slightly, took a second arrow, and aimed.

Fwip.

Thwack.

His second arrow was close enough to his first to damage its fletching. "Nice grouping, sport," Louis said.

"Still haven't split an arrow," Harry muttered disappointedly.

Louis laughed. "Even us, sons of Apollo, can't split an arrow that way, Harry."

The young boy pouted. "Artie can do it," he protested.

"She's the Goddess of the Hunt, of course she can," the older teen replied with a small laugh. "That doesn't mean us mere mortals can do it, too."

Harry continued to pout. "She got mad when I asked if I could do that, too. She took it as a challenge, so I have been keeping quiet about it when she's teaching me to shoot. She can be a bit prickly about things like that."

Louis grunted in laughter. "Harry, Lady Artemis isn't 'a bit prickly'. When it comes to boys and men, she can be downright ruthless."

The young boy glared at him. "Artie's nice. So are most of the other gods. Mister Apollo looked me over to make sure I was healthy, and gave me this bow and arrows. Mister Poseidon taught me to swim. The gods are cool."

Louis stumbled, then walked to a bench not far away and fell down on it. The guys, Jack and Jim, followed suit, but they were chuckling quietly, obviously enjoying Louis' world turn upside down.

"Harry," Louis finally said. "Let me give you a piece of advice. Advice that may, one day, save your life."

Harry nodded, feeling a bit awkward.

"The gods are dangerous. Very dangerous," Louis explained. "People have been cursed, or downright killed, for the flimsiest of reasons. Sometimes it was as silly as not making an offering at the right time. The gods, they're very dangerous to us mortals. Always, always be polite."

"Louis speaks the truth," Chiron said, trotting up. "It is always best to remain respectful of the gods, and mindful of their powers. Many a mortal has been smote to death for simple acts of defiance."

Harry crossed his arms. He didn't like the way these people were talking about his friends. Hestia was the sweetest, kindest person he had ever met. And Artie could be prickly, but he was utterly sure that she wouldn't harm him. Glare at him, yes. Hurt him, no.

Then, he realized something. "Are you always acting that way to the gods? Waiting for them to curse you for the slightest thing?"

Louis shared a glance with Chiron. "Well… yeah," he finally answered, as if it were just common sense.

The young boy sighed. "The gods are people too," he finally said. Chiron and Louis stared at him, as did the two 'guys', while Hestia offered him a proud smile. He felt stronger at seeing that smile, he loved it when Hestia was proud of him.

"What do you mean, lad?" Chiron asked.

Harry looked at the trainer of heroes. "The gods are people too," he repeated. "If someone always treats you like an angry weapon about to go off, then eventually, you're going to act that way. Sure, you need to be polite with them – but that's because you should _always_ be polite, not because the god can smite you on the spot if you're not. Not that they would. They're nice people, if you're nice to them."

_Well, most of them,_ Harry thought. _Mister Zeus could use a lesson or two from Hestia on how to be polite_.

"That… isn't how things normally work," Chiron offered.

Harry grinned, and shrugged. "I'm just polite, and treat the gods like people, not like weapons, or angry animals. And they're nice back to me. Well, except for Mister Zeus; he doesn't like me at all."

There was a small clap of thunder in the distance. Hestia laughed softly. "That may be due to the fact that you revealed his latest philandering in front of the entire Olympian Council, Harry," the Goddess of the Home said.

Harry just pouted.

Chiron smiled, but tried to hide his amusement. "We should move on, there are still a few areas to see," he said, drawing attention to himself. Harry smiled at him gratefully; the centaur was good at changing the subject when he needed to save Harry. The young boy found himself liking the Teacher of Heroes.

Chiron waved goodbye to the three sons of Apollo, while Harry gave his goodbyes. Hestia merely graced them with her usual smile.

As they left the archery range, they walked passed the arena again. Harry felt his spirits drop at the sight of it. He really didn't want to fight anyone, and the arena just reminded him that this camp was basically a training camp for demigods.

After leaving the arena behind them, Chiron took them to one of the buildings closer to the woods.

"These are the pegasus stables," the centaur said. He stopped right outside of it. "For obvious reasons, I prefer not to go inside, but feel free to take a look. I'm not sure if anyone is present or not, so you may want to stay clear of the pegasi if there isn't. Some of them can be twitchy around newcomers."

Harry shrugged, and looked at Hestia. She gave him an encouraging smile, and waved him on.

He just nodded in acceptance, and went to take a look – he'd seen them from a distance, and this was his chance to see them up close. Like most children, he was keenly interested in animals of all sorts.

He pushed the door open, and walked inside. Nobody seemed to be present, but he did see a couple of the pegasi standing in their boxes, some of them with their heads sticking out of the gate, eyeing him.

He smiled shyly, remembering how Chiron had said they could be twitchy.

Slowly, silently, he walked the length of the stable, staring at the various pegasi present. Some of them seemed to pull away at his sight, but most of them just stood still and stared.

"Oh, hello," he heard a girl's voice from one of the boxes.

He turned to look at the box in question, and found himself face-to-face with a girl that was about his own age, with black hair and blue eyes. She was rather slim, and looked really pretty.

"Hi," Harry replied, shyly.

The girl giggled slightly. "New here?" she asked, extending one hand over the door to the pegasus box. "I'm Silena. Silena Beauregard. Daughter of Aphrodite."

Harry smiled, still shyly. He took the offered hand, and said, "I'm Harry Potter. I don't know who my godly parent is."

"Undetermined, huh?" the girl asked, on a friendly tone. "Don't worry, Hermes' Cabin is cool. Crowded, but cool. It could do with a clean, though. Dust everywhere. Ugh."

Harry laughed softly. "Ew. I'd definitely be cleaning if I were staying there," he said. "I… eh… am just visiting here."

Silena smiled widely. "You have someone who takes care of you? That's great! Some of the campers don't, and stay year-round. Others go home and only come for the summer."

Harry's smile dimmed slightly, and he glanced away awkwardly when he remembered where he came from. "I didn't used to," he replied. He looked back. "Hestia's taking care of me for now," he then said, smiling returning somewhat.

Silena offered a supportive smile. "Someone named after the gods, that takes guts. They usually don't like it when mortals get named after gods," the girl said, sounding impressed.

"She's the Goddess of the Home and the Hearth," Harry explained. He went on to give a small rundown of how he came to be in Hestia's care. Silena was a good listener, apparently, as she made all the right noises at all the right times.

When he came to the part where he explained being on good terms with Artie and (some of) her Hunters, the girl grunted, her face showing revulsion.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"Ugh, don't get me starting on them. I'm the daughter of Aphrodite, the whole 'vowing off love' thing is an insult to my mother."

Harry had to think about that for a moment. "They swore off _romantic_ love," he then said. "I've seen Artie and I've seen her Hunters. Trust me, there is lots of love there. The Hunters love each other, and they love Artie. And Artie loves them; she's warned me plenty before I ever got to meet her Hunters."

Silena crossed her arms. "Maybe," she said, not willing to admit to being wrong.

Harry grinned. "You'll see, if you ever get a chance to meet them. Plus, you're a girl, they'll be nicer to you."

"Are they really that bad?" the daughter of Aphrodite asked, hoping to change the subject.

Harry shrugged. "I don't think so, but others definitely do. Plus, Artie's always offering to turn me into a girl. According to Mister Apollo, that means she likes me. I keep telling her that she can change me into a girl only if she can change me back if I change my mind."

Silena burst out laughing, before opening the half-door of the pegasus box, stepping out, and closing it behind her. She grabbed Harry in a hug. "Oh, Harry, you'd make such a pretty girl. I could dress you up and teach you about makeup, and we could make up horrible stories about boys!"

Harry blushed cherry red at Silena's comments, but still hugged her back. Because hugs!

"Ehm… I think I'll pass," Harry said. "Besides, I think Artie wants to change me so I can join her Hunters in a few years."

Silena leaned back, and suddenly he was drowning in the deep blue of her eyes. "But you wouldn't just abandon your new friend, would you Harry?" she asked, her lower lip trembling.

Harry stepped back, shaking his head. "You're faking that."

The daughter of Aphrodite suddenly grinned, no trace of tears or trembling lip. "I was so sure that it would work, too," she said, giggling.

Harry chuckled. "It was a good try, but you oversold it."

Silena laughed, then changed the subject, before things got awkward. "Have you ever seen a pegasus?" she asked, pointing to the box she had just left.

Harry shook his head, and stepped next to her. Inside the box stood a pegasus, eating. "I was taking care of him when you came in. Wanna meet him?"

The boy shrugged. "Sure, why not?" he asked. Silena grinned, pulled the door open, and hustled him inside.

"Okay, the first thing is, a pegasus has eyes on the side of its head, so if you approach from the front, it can't see you very well. Approach from the side, so it can see you."

She walked with him towards the eating pegasus. Harry as sure that the eye pointed in their direction was glaring at him. For some reason, he had the impression the pegasus didn't like him very much.

Silena reached out, and patted the animal's long neck. "His name's _Orage_, French for 'thunderstorm'."

Harry felt more misgivings. A pegasus called 'thunderstorm' wasn't going to be all sweetness and cuddles.

The girl went on to rub the pegasus' neck, and the animal suddenly stepped away from his feed to face the girl and her companion. "He's a bit of a grump," Silena went on to explain, "But he's got a good heart." She looked at Harry. "Come on, he won't bite."

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat, wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, and stepped up. The pegasus was still eyeing him, he was sure of it.

"I… don't think he likes me," Harry said.

Silena grinned widely. "That's because he doesn't know you, silly! Come here and say hello." She grabbed him, and pulled him closer. "Hey Orage, this is Harry." She handed the boy an apple she had pulled from… somewhere, then indicated he was to give it to the pegasus.

Harry swallowed, pasted a smile on his face, and offered the fruit to the animal.

Orage didn't have to be told twice, apparently, and snatched the apple from the boy's open hand. For a moment, Harry was _sure_ he could feel the animal's lips brushing his palm, but that may just be his imagination.

Silena was grinning widely. "See? You're become friends already!" she stated, turning back to the pegasus. "I can't wait until I'm able to ride him. They say i'm still 'too young'."

The obvious quotes made Harry laugh. "I'm 'too young' for things, too. Hestia won't let me do things until I'm 'older', too."

Silena sighed. "Adults," she said, on a suffering tone.

Harry nodded. "Adults," he agreed, on the same tone.

The two children looked at each other, then sighed together. Adults were the same everywhere.

"I should go back to Hestia and Chiron," Harry said. "Before they get worried about me staying in here for so long."

Silena gave an agreeing nod, and followed him as he walked out. As he opened the door, he heard Hestia say,

" - despite me asking her, Hecate remains her usual insular self, so I have to look into other ways to teach him."

Harry had no idea who Hestia was talking about, but he recognized the name of the Goddess of Magic that Mister Hades had brought up during the solstice meeting.

"Hi Hestia," Harry said as he stepped out, dragging Silena along with him. She giggled as he pulled her out. "This is Silena, she's Miss Aphrodite's daughter."

Hestia and Chiron immediately stopped their conversation, and the Goddess of the Home graced the girl with a warm smile. "Hello, Silena."

The girl flushed and gave an awkward curtsy. "Hello, Lady Hestia. It's nice to meet you," she managed with a passable non-quivering voice.

"There no need for that," the kind goddess said, patting the girl on the shoulder. She turned to look at Harry. "I am glad that you're making friends, Harry."

"Silena's fun," Harry enthused, making the girl blush. "She's really good with the pegasi."

Hestia smiled at the girl. "I am glad to hear it." She turned to face Chiron. "We should move on with the tour, however, as Chiron is very busy."

Harry nodded. "Alright, Hestia."

Silena turned to harry. "I should get going, too." Seemingly on impulse, she hugged Harry. "See you around, Harry."

The boy grinned, and hugged her back. Because hugs were good. "See you around, Silena," he said.

The girl giggled. "That sounds so wrong in your British accent," she teased, before remembering that she was in the presence of a major goddess, and the trainer of heroes. Blushing, she waved awkwardly at Harry before making a run for it.

"Sometimes, girls are strange," Harry decided.

Hestia laughed softly. "I think you will find that all people are capable of being 'strange', Harry."

The young boy nodded.

Chiron, grinning, just waved them on. "This way, please."

They walked passed the armory, where Chiron offered to get Harry a sword and shield. The boy politely declined. The teacher of Heroes simply smiled, and said the offer would be good for a future visit.

Walking passed the cabins again, Chiron then pointed out the dining pavilion, which had no roof, but was made up out of columns, and each cabin had its own table. There was also a high table, for Chiron, Mister Dionysus, and their guests.

Following a small stream, they arrived at a beach.

A real beach. Harry grinned, this was only his second visit to a beach, and this camp had one of its own! This was probably the best feature of the camp, Harry decided. A private beach.

"And this is where our tour ends," Chiron said.

Harry grinned. "Can I go say 'hi' to Mister Poseidon real quick?" he asked.

The teacher of heroes blinked. "Of course, if you want to," he said. "Lord Poseidon is Lord of the Seas, though, so he is likely very busy."

The young boy nodded seriously. "I know. But he did take time to teach me to swim and to show me his favorite beach, so I just want to say hi." He turned, and raced down the sand to the shoreline.

Leaning down, the boy put his hand in the cool water of the Long island Sound. He laughed softly as the tiny waves lapped at his hand.

"Hi Mister Poseidon," he said. "I know you said I could visit any beach I wanted." he suddenly felt shy. "I just wanted to say thanks. For teaching me to swim. And letting me come to the beach. So… thanks, Mister Poseidon. I know you're busy, so I'll stop bothering you."

When Harry pulled his hand out of the tiny, playful waves at the edge of the sea, he found the water clinging to his palm, making him laugh. When he was a fair bit up, the water cascaded away, giving the impression of having been a firm handshake.

"It seems like someone has the attention of Lord Poseidon," Chiron joked at the sight. Hestia just had her usual warm smile on her face. There seemed to be a measure of pride, there, too.

The young boy grinned. "Mister Poseidon's really cool," he answered.

"We should be going," the Goddess of the Home said. "Chiron has lots of campers to teach."

Harry just nodded in acceptance. "Thanks for showing me around, Mister Chiron!" he chirped to the centaur.

Chiron chuckled deeply. "Simply 'Chiron' will do, Harry. And it was my pleasure."

They trekked back to the fire burning in the center courtyard of the cabins. This time, there were a lot more campers out and about, and all of them were staring at Harry.

He suddenly felt really uncomfortable, and wanted to burrow into Hestia's shadow and never come out. They were whispering about him, too.

He saw Silena in the crowd, surrounded by some of the prettiest girls he had ever seen. And one or two of the prettiest boys, too – he had never considered the fact that boys could be 'pretty', but here they were.

Silena was smiling widely, and waved at him. Harry grinned, and focused on her. He smiled and waved back.

There was a cat-call from the opposite side of the courtyard, and Harry noticed Louis and the 'guys', surrounded by half a dozen other blonde-haired, blue-eyed kids that could only be their brothers and sisters.

Louis was grinning, cat-called again, and waggled his eyebrows in a teasing manner. Not used to actual teasing from people he didn't know that well, Harry suddenly liked the son of Apollo a lot less.

Hestia waved her hand, turning the fire green. The amassed campers ooh-ed and ah-ed, but Harry was glad to make a break for it, following Hestia back to the Temple of Helios. The moment he crossed the threshold, he sighed in relief and fell into the nearest couch.

"It wasn't that bad," Hestia said, smiling serenly when she sat down opposite him.

"Most of it wasn't, no," the young boy admitted. "But that part at the end? Where they all stared at me? That part sucked."

"Language," Hestia admonished gently.

**AN: A thanks to goku90504 for pointing out some errors in the last chapter. I have corrected them and they should be showing up at the same time as this chapter is.  
****AN2: I was on vacation, which gave me a lot of free time to write. Please don't expect the next chapter to be released in the same time scale as this one was...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 7**

Night had fallen, and little Harry Potter moved through the darkened temple by the light thrown from Hestia's conjured braziers. The Goddess of the Home had visited earlier, even taking the time to cook with him, before taking up her duties at the camp.

He put a small plate, holding three donuts, down in front of the large statue of Helios. Grinning up at the titan-god that was sheltering him, the young boy said, "I made some donuts, Mister Helios. I hope you like them."

The donuts immediately vanished, making him laugh. "I guess you do," he said, picking the plate up again. After returning it to the kitchen, he took the plate holding the 10 or so donuts he had left, and installed himself in the living area.

Picking up a book, he nestled by the fire of the hearth, and started reading, while munching on the donuts.

His eyes slid over the same paragraph, over and over again, his mind wandering. How long had he been living in Helios' Temple now? He knew he turned eight not too long after he first settled here and met Hestia.

His birthday had never been a major concern, not to the Dursleys, so he was perfectly fine with ignoring it.

He had lived here for at least six months before he had been caught during the Winter Solstice. He'd been allowed to stay, thanks to Hestia intervening for him. More months had passed, then he'd had his first survival test, and Hestia had introduced him to camp.

That was a few weeks ago now. He had lost track of dates, because as good as Olympus was, it seemed to be sadly bereft of calendars.

He had talked with a couple of the campers he had met, like Louis and Silena, but things were… awkward. Or so it felt, anyway. He was living by himself, in a temple on Olympus. They weren't. Maybe they were jealous. Or maybe the didn't want to appear jealous. Whatever the case may be, conversations felt somewhat awkward.

He sighed, and put the book away. He wasn't going to get any reading done tonight. Instead, he grabbed another do… apparently he'd eaten all the donuts already. Sighing, he put the empty plate in the kitchen before settling back in front of the hearth.

Gazing into it, he attempted to clear his mind. Indistinct voices muttered in his ears, the conversations being held by people near their fires. He could not discern what they were talking about, the muttering both quiet and jumbled together with thousands of others voices. Like being at a party where everyone was whispering, it was impossible to make out where one conversation started and another stopped.

The sensation, the _urge_, in his gut to listen more closely appeared out of nowhere. It surprised him greatly, and he lost his focus on the fire. Suddenly, he was back in the living area of Helios' temple, and the voice were gone.

The intense sensation in his gut remained. Harry frowned; the sensation had warned him against bad people, and it had gotten him into Olympus and meeting Hestia. The last time, it had recommended he build a spear – a spear that had failed him, and caused him to fight a juvenile boar.

The feeling could be both good or bad, it seemed, and Harry wasn't sure what to make of it returning now, urging him to listen closer to the fire.

He sighed. Listening couldn't hurt, could it?

He focused back on the fire.

Unless it would cause him to hear something he wasn't supposed to hear – like seeing Mister Zeus and that nymph, he wasn't supposed to see that, either. It had gotten Mister Zeus really mad at him, and the King of the Gods still hadn't forgiven him for revealing it.

He that ruined his focus again. The _feeling_ remained. Harry sighed, took a deep breath, and focused back on the fire, trying to figure out why the _feeling_ wanted him to listen to it.

The temple dropped away, and Harry found himself, once again, floating on the sea of voices. The feeling urged him on, and Harry's mind listened closer.

Suddenly, he heard it. The sound of crying. It sounded like a girl, but Harry couldn't be sure. The instinct, the _urge_ seemed satisfied that he had found the sound of this crying girl. Now, it urged him on to travel to her, to help her.

Once, Harry wouldn't have hesitated. That instinct had guided him to Olympus and to Hestia. Now, however, he was more restrained. The instinct had caused him to make a spear, a plan that had ultimately ended up with him fighting for his life against a juvenile boar.

What if this was more of the same? Maybe there was a balance to things, both good and bad, and the good of him being on Olympus, at Helios' temple,with hestia looking after him, needed to be balanced out by bad stuff?

If so, wouldn't the 7 years with the Dursleys have been enough bad stuff?

Harry hesitated. The _urge_ to travel to the sobbing girl increased. Harry still hesitated. What would he find? And what could he say when he arrived? Traveling through fire wasn't something people knew about. He couldn't just pop up in front of this girl, and not tell her anything. He was sure that Mister Zeus would be even _more_ upset with him if he popped up in front of some random girl and let out the secret of the gods…

_Athena,_ the girl whispered as she sobbed. _I'm scared, Athena_._ Please help me._

This girl knew about the gods! And that tone of voice, he remembered that tone of voice. It was the one that he himself had used when he desperately wanted someone to come and save him, take him away from the Dursleys. Whoever this girl was, she was praying to Miss Athena, she knew about the gods, and she wanted someone to come and help her.

Harry pulled back. His decision had been made, he realized. Drawing a breath, he stood up, and waved his hand at the fire, causing it to turn green.

The next moment, he stepped through.

He emerged out of a fire, in the back parking lot of some abandoned industrial complex, somewhere in a nondescript city, built out of a wooden pallet and some random planks.

There was no sobbing girl in sight. Harry frowned, then remembered his own first meeting with Hestia. Part of him smiled at the similarity.

"Hello?" Harry asked the thin air. "I'm not here to harm you."

The parking lot was deserted, and remained deserted. Harry curiously looked around. "If I were hiding, where would I hide…?" he asked semi-out loud.

Noticing a stack of abandoned machinery and building supplies, leaning against the wall of the abandoned building, in an an otherwise empty car park, Harry grinned.

"I just want to be your friend," Harry said as he approached the stack carefully. "I heard you crying, and came to help."

"I wasn't crying!" a girl's voice shouted from behind the stack.

Harry stopped, not having expected an actual response. "Oops," the voice muttered.

"Hi there," the young boy said, trying desperately not to smile, as he leaned against the stack from the other side. If the girl didn't want to come out, he wouldn't force her. He could just as well talk to her from here, without seeing her. Hopefully, he'd be able to convince her to accept his help – he could get her to Camp Half-blood quite easily, and she'd be safe there.

The girl remained quiet.

"So, as I said," Harry continued, "I heard you crying through the fire and I came to help. I know I'm not Miss Athena, but I can get you to someplace safe."

Silence.

Harry sighed. Okay, so his first strategy hadn't worked. Not knowing what to do, but remembering how Hestia had confronted him in person, he decided on doing the same.

He stepped around the pile, only to dodge back when his instincts clamored a high alert. It was a good thing they did, too, because the next thing he knew, a little blonde girl had swiped a clawhammer through the space his head would have occupied.

"Whoa," Harry said, startling back as the girl took another swipe at him, this time aiming for his chest. "I'm not here to hurt you, I promise!"

The girl stopped, eyeing him suspiciously for a moment. Her intense gray eyes reminded him so much of Miss Athena right now that there was no question in his mind; this girl was a daughter of Athena.

"How did you do that?" she asked, suddenly, still hefting the clawhammer.

His eyes locked on the tool, Harry asked, "Do what?"

"The traveling through fire," the girl stated, still staring at him.

Harry nodded, understanding her question now. "It was something I was taught by the goddess Hestia, the Goddess of the Home and the Hearth."

"You're from… them?" she asked, suddenly hopeful.

Harry smiled faintly. "If you mean the gods, then yes, somewhat," he confirmed. "Like I said, I heard you crying-"

"I didn't cry!" the girl protested again. Harry was silent for a moment, looking at her eyes, which were bloodshot and puffy.

"I heard you through the fire," Harry said, not wanting to get into an argument. "So I thought I could help. I can take you someplace safe, through the fire."

The girl's eyes narrowed and she looked suspiciously at the fire she had started. Now that she wasn't trying to kill him with a hammer, Harry studied her closer.

The still unnamed girl was blonde, had Athena's intense gray eyes, and looked to be about the same age as Harry, seven or eight or so.

"I'm Harry," Harry said. "Harry Potter." He held out his hand.

The girl still stared at him for a few moments, making him uncomfortable, before relaxing slightly, and accepting his hand. "Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena," she introduced herself.

"Will you come with me?" Harry asked, motioning to the fire.

"No," Annabeth replied immediately. "I don't know you, and I don't trust you."

Harry sighed. He could have expected that. "I just want to help, Annie."

Annabeth scowled deeply. "Annabeth," she corrected.

Harry's shoulders slumped. That had set him back, no doubt. "Sorry," he muttered, scuffing the ground with his shoe. He really wasn't very good at this, it seemed.

"Come, let's stand around the fire and talk," he offered, motioning to the fire. "We can get to know each other. Maybe you'll trust me, then."

Annabeth scowled, but went to stand around the fire regardless.

Knowing that Annabeth wasn't going to volunteer anything, Harry sighed and stared at the fire, recounting some of the things that had happened while he was with the Dursleys. There was a time where he would have told everything – that was the time where he didn't know just how wrong his upbringing had been.

The longer he was with Hestia, the more people he talked to, the more he realized just how bad the Dursleys had treated him, and the more reluctant he become of talking about them.

In this case, he had to. So he told Annabeth about some of the things that happened to him.

She volunteered some information when she saw how much it affected him. Athena had intended for her to be a 'gift' to her father, whom she had befriended at some university. Her father hadn't seen her that way. That had to hurt, and left Harry commiserating with Annabeth.

Recognizing the pattern they had fallen into, Harry shared how the Dursleys had taken him to New York, and abandoned him.

Annabeth looked highly upset, then explained how she had been attacked by spiders, them being sent by Arachne, her mother's nemesis. She explained how the spiders would attack her, and bite her, but hide when her stepmother came to look. In the morning, their bites would have healed, leaving only their webs as very flimsy evidence.

Then, she explained, she ran away.

Harry nodded. "I understand. Grown-ups can be evil," he said. "I made plans. I don't want to be with evil adults ever again. I got some training, so I can go live in the woods."

"I would have preferred the woods over my stepmother," Annabeth commiserated. "But I keep being attacked by monsters. It's why I was so high strung. Sorry about taking a swing at you."

Harry grinned at her. "No problem, you didn't hit me, so no harm, no foul."

Annabeth scowled at what she thought was a jab at her skills. "I could _so_ hit you," she muttered.

The boy nodded. "No doubt. I don't want to get hit, though," he answered. He looked from the fire, to her, "will you come with me?"

Annabeth still hesitated. "My mother's been guiding me. I don't know where. Maybe I shouldn't. Where would you take me, anyway?"

Harry gratefully took the offered olive branch, and ran with it. "There's a camp, for demigods. It's called Camp Half-blood. Basically, it's protected by the gods, so no monsters can come in, and it's a place where they teach demigods to fight and to protect themselves. It's also got things like canoeing, Pegasus riding, and arts and crafts, so it's got all sorts of activities."

"Learning to fight sounds useful," Annabeth mused. "But Pegasus riding? Really?"

Harry grinned. "A friend of mine, Silena, is really good with them. I'm not so much – I think they hate me for some reason. They glare at me, I swear it. But with Silena there? They're like putty. She can do what she wants with them."

Annabeth opened her mouth to say something, when she closed it, and looked up sharply. Harry turned around, noticing a man grinning at them, from where he had just rounded the corner.

"Lookie here, two kids, after dark," the man said. He was huge, and bulky, and bald. He was dressed like a normal man, harry supposed, with a t-shirt, pants, and shoes. A man like that shouldn't be dressed so normally, harry decided, and the icy sensation in his gut, warning him, seemed to agree with him.

The man was striding forward, not in the least bit concerned, apparently. "So whatcha doin' here, kids? All by yer lonesome?"

"Just… talking," Harry muttered, shifting closer to Annabeth, who seemed to be ready to bolt herself.

"Talkin', eh? Is that what they call it these days?" the man chuckled to himself, and had neared the kids. "So, how's about you two come with me? I got sum food, and a spare roof fer the two o' ya. Little kids shouldna be on the streets after dark."

"Perhaps… that's not a good idea," Annabeth volunteered. Harry saw her hand clench the handle of her clawhammer so tight that her knuckles were white.

"Oh?" the man asked, still holding that creepy smile. Suddenly, he lunged. One arm encircled Annabeth, grabbing her and holding her tight so she couldn't even swing her hammer. Harry shouted, and ran to the creepy guy holding Annabeth, only to get a thick, fat, fist to his face.

The man was laughing. "Beat it, boy. I jus' wan' me the girl." Annabeth screamed, and Harry felt his chest twitch – that kind of scream was one he hadn't heard before.

Harry shouted, and jumped at the man, flinging his little fists as hard as his eight-year-old body could manage. The man laughed harder, and one punch to the face dropped Harry to the ground. "Ya act like yer da never taught ya ta throw a punch," the man taunted.

Harry grunted, and got up.

Or tried to.

As he was on hands and knees, the guy launched a kick at the boy's ribs. Harry felt something give, then something crack, then redhot agony bloomed in his chest. It felt like the broken rib that one guard on Olympus had given him – only this time there was no Hestia to make it better, no Mister Apollo to heal him.

He grunted, and tried to get up. The guy kicked him again. Harry screamed. Annabeth screamed.

"There. Stay down," the guy said, and turned.

"Please," Harry coughed.

"Wassat?" the guy asked, stopping, and looking over his shoulder.

"Please," Harry repeated, before coughing violently. "Just let her go. We won't say anything. Just let her go."

The man laughed. "Letting go of this here pretty? You're dreamin', boy!" He turned, and started walking again, laughing as he did so. He wasn't walking to the corner. He was walking to the building.

Harry shouted, as loudly as he could, forced himself to his feet, and took four loping strides, ignoring the blooming pain, and jumped at the guy's knees. If he could bring him down, maybe Annabeth could escape.

His shouts had alerted the man to his arrival, and he just sidestepped, lodging the heel of his boot deep into Harry's back. More pain bloomed. Faintly, he heard Annabeth scream his name.

He coughed again. Blood stained his lips and the floor in front of him. The man was still laughing, creepily. His laugh was receding. He was walking away, carrying Annabeth.

He'd learn, though. Harry always learned. He wrestled himself to his feet, wavering like a drunk as he did so, and jumped. Not for the guy's knees. For the guy's neck.

Wrapping his arm around the guy's neck, and holding it tight with his other arm, Harry attempted a desperate stranglehold to bring the hulk of a man down. The unknown assailant grunted, and grabbed for Harry with the hand that _wasn't_ holding Annabeth – Annabeth who had redoubled her struggles to break free.

Struggling for purchase, fighting to hold on, Harry tried desperately to ignore the pain and hold on long enough for Annabeth to break free.

The man's fist connected heavily with his hip. Harry yelped.

_Remember thy knife, boy!_

Why he heard Miss Zoë's voice at that instant, he would never know. But it _did_ remind him of when he desperately fought that boar. His right hand grabbed for the knife holder on his hip, releasing the clasp, and drawing the razor-sharp hunting knife.

The next moment, the guy sagged to his knees, then toppled over. Harry fell to the ground with a grunt. He was covered in blood. So was Annabeth.

Harry just stared. Like the boar, it was as easy as the boar. Knife goes in throat. Knife leaves throat.

It shouldn't be that easy.

Harry turned, and vomited. The donuts were unrecognizable. So was his dinner.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up, his eyes filled with tears. Tears of pain at his injuries. Tears of misery at being ill and vomiting. Tears of sorrow and self-loathing at having killed a man.

Annabeth knelt down next to him. "Thanks, Harry," she whispered, her tone showing just how inadequate she felt the words were, but still needing to say them.

Harry coughed. More blood. "Glad… you're okay," he whispered.

She gave him a tired, shaky, smile. "We need to get you looked after, you look awful."

Harry nodded, and tried to stand up. His face was a mass of bruises, so was his hip. His ribs were broken. He was sure of it. He yelped as he tried to stand, the pain driving away his exhaustion, bringing the world into focus, a focus so sharp that it _hurt_ to even look.

"What do we do?" Annabeth asked, her voice starting to slip into hysteria. "You're injured, and we have a dead body…"

Harry grunted, the swelling in his face making it hard to speak now. He drew a breath and ignored the aching in his ribs. Closing his eyes, gritting his teeth, holding his breath, he forced himself to his feet. The moment he stood still, the ache in his ribs was manageable.

"Fwije," he lisped through swollen lips. Annabeth frowned at him, not understanding. Harry couldn't blame her, he hardly understand himself. He motioned to the fire with his right hand. "Fwije," he repeated, then noticed the hand he had used. The right hand that was covered in blood, but the right hand that _wasn't_ holding the knife, Zoës gift that had _saved his life_. He looked around, and found it lying on the ground.

He grunted. This was going to hurt.

Annabeth, noticing his gaze, didn't hesitate. She snatched it up, and put it in the sheath for him, clasping it shut. "Tanke."

She understood him anyway, and offered a shaky smile. She was close to him as he hobbled to the fire, hovering, but unsure of what to do to help. Truthfully, harry didn't know how she could help either. He was in pain, but wasn't sure that supporting him would even help. So he grit against the pain and stumbled to the fire.

_Camp Half-blood,_ he thought as he waved his hand. The fire turned green. He looked at Annabeth. She nodded.

He wanted to smile, but his swollen face made that impossible. He held out his left hand. He was relieved when she took it.

He stepped forward, knowing that she'd be with him.

He stumbled out of the fire, the travel having sapped the last of his strength. He screamed when the ground met him. Concerned eyes were immediately in his field of vision.

He just wished that the first person to meet him hadn't been Hestia. She was going to hate him for getting into a fight – and worse, killing someone.

"Help," he whispered weakly, right before his lights went out and darkness claimed him.

00000

Harry woke up, curiously in no pain. Then he tried to move, and there it was.

He let out a groan, drawing the attention of the person sitting in a chair next to his bed.

"Harry!"

It was Annabeth; Harry didn't know whether to be relieved or upset that it wasn't Hestia. Relieved, because he wasn't looking forward to facing her, not after what he'd done, or upset that she wasn't there to take care of him. Then again, hestia was a goddess and probably had better things to do.

"Hi Annabeth," he said, voice breaking with lack of use. He offered the Daughter of Athena a weak smile, which was the best he could do at the moment, he supposed.

The blonde girl looked incredibly relived. "I'm so glad you're up," she said, sounding as relived as she looked. "When you passed out, I was so worried. And then I had to explain things to a lot of people – and you could have warned me about the Centaur and the fact that there was a very upset goddess here, waiting for you!"

harry winced. "Sorry," he muttered. "We had not a lot of time, you know?"

She sighed, and nodded. "You were out of it the moment we came through the fire. They took you straight here, and a son of Apollo prayed to his father to heal you. There was a light show and everything, he said it was the strongest reaction he'd ever gotten from Lord Apollo."

Harry offered another weak smile. The God of the Son seemed to have liked him, perhaps that was the cause.

"Anyway," Annabeth prattled on, "that took care of most of your major wounds, like the broken bones, broken ribs; broken skull, your concussion, and the major bruises in your face. Louis said the rest were 'minor' things that would take of themselves after a week or so in bed. I hate to see what he would call major, if a week in bed is 'minor'."

Harry nodded feebly, vividly recalling how Chiron had said wounds 'usually' weren't fatal. Since fatal wounds occurred often enough to be mentioned, he expected some pretty gruesome wounds at this camp.

"I'm just glad you came out of it, Louis said so, but you looked so horrible when they put you in here, and I'd never seen Godly healing before," the young girl went on. "Oh! And I was supposed to give you this," she finished, and taking a large glass off the nightstand, and holding it up while putting a straw in between his lips.

For one fleeting moment, Harry didn't mind being put up like this, if it meant people would wait on him. Then he remembered the pain of trying to move, and the pain of the injuries when he got them.

He sipped. The nectar still tasted like that soup hestia had given him that first time he met her. To him, it wasn't the taste so much as it was the feeling of comfort and of caring that he got from it.

He finished the glass, and Annabeth put it back.

That was going to be in the past now. He'd killed a man. Hestia hated violence, she was going to hate _him_ now. He sighed; it had been nice while it lasted. His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.

Annabeth, recognizing that something was amiss, but not knowing _what_ exactly, stood up. "I should… let the others know you're awake," she said, softly. "It was my turn to sit with you." she offered him a final, tentative, smile, and vanished.

Harry looked around – this was obviously the camp's infirmary. It hadn't been part of the official tour, but he recognized the architecture, and from Annabeth's ramblings, it became even more obvious.

He swallowed. He wasn't going to cry. He _wasn't_.

He closed his eyes, and tried to empty his mind. It wasn't working. His thoughts just kept coming back to him killing that man. He was a murderer now. And Hestia was going to hate him over it. He was going to end up alone again.

The door opened, and Harry opened his eyes to look. Part of him hoped it was Hestia. Part of him dreaded it was Hestia.

Instead, he found Annabeth, along with Louis and Silena. He wondered vaguely about Chiron, but focused instead on his visitors.

Louis grinned, and ruffled his bed hair. "You gave us all a fright when you stumbled out of the fire, Squirt," he said with a grin.

Harry tried to smile back. "Sorry," he muttered.

The son of Apollo stepped aside, letting the daughter of Aphrodite at him. To his immense surprise, the girl gave him a hug. He hugged back, despite the discomfort it was causing him – because he really _really_ needed a big hug right now. Silena seemed to recognize his need, because she held him for longer than as normally accepted.

"I'm glad you're alright, Harry. Like Louis said, you scared us when you arrived," she said, finally releasing him. Harry missed the hug already. "What happened?" the daughter of Aphrodite asked.

"Subtlety," Louis said with a cough.

Silena stuck out her tongue at the son of Apollo, who laughed back. He turned to harry, suddenly serious. "You're still healing, despite the biggest healing Dad ever helped me give, so I don't want you excited. If you don't feel like telling, it will keep."

Harry nodded. "I heard Annabeth cry-" he started to say, before the girl coughed, loudly. "I heard Annabeth asking for help," he corrected, earning a firm nod from the daughter of Athena. Silena looked strangely upset at Annabeth, but Harry had no idea why.

"So I went to help her. I messed up, and just asked her if she wanted me to take her someplace safe. Of course, she didn't know me, so she refused. We started talking, but then this guy shows up, and he wants to take Annabeth, and I try to stop him," Harry rushed out. "And he hurts me, but won't let Annabeth go. And then I jump him, and remember my knife."

He swallowed again, looking at his hands, folded on his sheets. "And then there was so much blood."

Silena had her hand in front of her mouth. Louis looked understanding. "It's never easy when that happens, especially not your first time," he said, leaning over to squeeze Harry's shoulder.

"I _told_ you what happened," Annabeth said, snappily.

"And now we know things from Harry's perspective," Louis said, before Silena could say anything. The daughter of Aphrodite looked really angry for some reason.

Annabeth pouted, and crossed her arms. "It's best to have things from multiple perspectives, one person can always miss something, or misremember something," Louis went on. Annabeth didn't respond, and just looked away.

"Chiron will want to talk to you as well," Louis went on to say, after turning to Harry. "But I'll keep him off your back for a few days more, so you'll feel better. He's real in-depth about after-action reports, always trying to teach you something and make you better."

Harry frowned, and wanted to sink into his pillow. He didn't want to remember what happened. He didn't really want to talk about it at all. The only reason he talked to Louis and Silena was because they were friends, and because Annabeth was _there_.

"Don't worry, harry," the son of Apollo said, squeezing his shoulder again. "In the end, you'll be better for it. Take it from someone who's been there."

Harry looked at the older demigod. Louis just nodded once. "taking a life isn't easy, and it shouldn't be easy. It's what makes us good guys," he said, and Harry had the impression that Louis liked talking about his experience as much as Harry liked talking about his own. He could understand that, and just nodded; he wasn't going to press, and he appreciated the fact that Louis wasn't pressing _him_ either.

The older demigod stepped back, just as the door opened. Again, Harry had the dreaded dichotomy of wanting and fearing Hestia's arrival.

It wasn't Hestia, but he wasn't sure if this was better, or worse.

Because the person who strode in was none other than the Goddess of the Hunt herself, shadowed by her trusted Lieutenant.

"Artie!" Harry greeted, ignoring his strange feelings towards Hestia, and instead focusing on the here and now. "And Miss Zoë!"

Louis seemed to shrink back from Harry's bed, and Silena seemed to make herself _very_ small in the comfy chair standing next to his bed. Annabeth just looked confused.

"Harry," Artie said, eyeing him with that predatory gaze she was so very good at. Zoë simply gave him a nod of her head.

Harry smiled at her, ignoring the look. "Artie, these are Annabeth, daughter of Athena, Louis, son of Apollo, and Silena, daughter of Aphrodite. Annabeth, louis, Silena, this is Artemis, goddess of the Hunt, and her Lieutenant, Miss Zoë Nightshade."

Annabeth suddenly turned white, and seemed to be doing a remarkable copy of the way Louis and Silena were shrinking. The demigods offered polite, yet fearful, greetings.

Zoë kept her eyes locked on him. Artie glanced at each of the demigods in turn, nodded at their greetings, yet focused on Annabeth just a fraction longer than the others.

"I heard you got into a fight," Artie said, focusing again on the boy in the bed. "Which, needless to say, disturbed me. As one of the few decent males out there, you getting into a fight was not what I wanted to hear. And then I heard it was to protect someone, and my hopes were restored."

She leaned closer, and Harry's world was suddenly filled with those intense silver eyes of hers. "Tell me what happened, Harry."

The young boy swallowed, and told the story again. He didn't want to, not really, but this was _Artie_, and when she got like this, 'no', wasn't really an acceptable answer.

When he finished, she studied him for a few moments longer, then sighed.

To his immense surprise, she leaned over further, and pulled him into a hug.

It was the first time that _she_ hugged _him_. Sure, she hugged back when he hugged her, but it had always been him to make the first move. He hugged her back.

"I am sorry that you had to go through that," the goddess whispered in his ear, then pulled back.

He just looked at his hands. "I'm a murderer," he said, softly, as if to himself.

Artie looked at the demigods. "Please leave," she told them. Despite the words, it wasn't really a polite request. It was a command. The three demigods managed a remarkable goodbye, and left as quickly as could politely be called 'walking'.

Artie sighed, and sat down in the comfy chair. Zoë took up position near the end of his bed, and patted his foot. Strangely enough, that simple gesture meant as much to him as Artie's hug earlier – Zoë never touched him if she could avoid it.

"Thou survived, thy enemy did not," Zoë said. "Thou protected an innocent. 'T is not easy, to take life, but sometimes, there is no choice."

"Zoë is right, Harry," Artie said, from right next to him. He had to turn his head to see her, seated right next to his head. "A first time is never easy, but you can comfort yourself in the knowledge that you did a good thing." The goddess of the Hunt looked away, staring at the door. "There is a daughter of Athena that is now whole and hale, and able to enjoy her life because of your actions. Take comfort from that."

Harry thought that Artie was a bit biased, considering that she was the Goddess of Maidens and disliked men. But still, it did ease his discomfort a bit.

His eyes drifted to the hunting knife that lay on his nightstand, between himself and the chair where Artie was perched. Literally, as the Goddess of the Hunt seemed ready to stand at any moment.

"Miss Zoë," Harry said, looking from the knife to the Hunter in question. "Thanks."

Zoë blinked. "What for?" she asked, confused.

Harry glanced back at the knife. "Your knife," he replied. "It saved my life. When I was hagning on, I heard you telling me to remember it – when I was fighting that boar."

Zoë gave a faint grin, and strode over. Picking the knife up, she unclasped it. For a moment, harry remembered it how he had last seen it, covered in blood and dirt from where he had dropped it. When the Hunter drew it, he was relived to see it sparkling clean; whoever had put it there had done a marvelous job cleaning it.

"Remember that it is thy knife now," she told the boy. "'T was a gift, and I am pleased that it was able to save thy life."

She sheathed it, and put it back on the nightstand, before turning to face him. "Since thou art now in the business of saving people, I believe 't would be time to start giving thee combat lessons. Next time, I shall start training thee."

Harry still didn't like the idea of fighting, now even less than before, but he could see the need for it. "Thanks, Miss Zoë," he whispered softly. The Hunter gave a sharp nod, and took her position at the end of his bed again.

Harry suddenly realized something. "Hopefully we can still do that," he said.

Zoë shared a confused look with Artie, then looked at him. "Pardon?"

Harry sighed. "Hestia hates me now," he admitted.

There came a curious noise from Zoë's throat, while Artie made good on her 'perching', and suddenly jumped to her feet.

"Harry," she stated, coolly, "what makes you think that?"

Harry stared at his hands, clenching, and uncleching, before taking a deep breath. "Hestia hates violence, and what I did yesterday..."

Zoë made that noise again, and Harry looked at her, curiously. She seemed to stunned with disbelief.

Artie, meanwhile, was pinching the bridge of her nose. "Harry," she repeated his name, suddenly looking at him with an intense stare. "Violence is all around us. Everyone involved with the gods will eventually encounter violence. Aunt Hestia does not hate you – anymore than she hates myself, or Zoë, or any of my Hunters. Or any of the other gods, for that matter."

She drew a deep breath, and released it, then sat down on the edge of his bed, so they could lock eyes more easily. "Aunt Hestia does not have it in her to hate anyone. Why would you believe something like that from her?"

Harry swallowed, feeling rather ashamed of himself now. "I ki-" his voice broke and his throat suddenly seemed full. He swallowed, and it _hurt_."I killed someone," he whispered. "I'm awful. I'm a monster." Somewhere, deep down, a part of him that he didn't want to acknowledge, reared its head. "The Dursleys were right to keep me locked up."

He was just stared at his hands now. Zoë and Artie shared a look. Finally, the Goddess of the Hunt placed her hands on top of his worrying hands. "Harry, Aunt Hestia does not hate you. Neither do I, or Zoë. What you did was _necessary_. If you had gone out and killed an innocent, and felt no remorse, than you would have been a monster. But you went out to help someone who asked for it. You protected her, defended her, and were forced to do something very violent and incredibly awful, but in the end, you did it for the right reasons; you did it to protect someone. And the way you're feeling now? That's why you know you're not a monster. A monster wouldn't feel regret."

Harry just nodded, registering the words, but unable to bring himself to _believe_ them. Not really, not deep down, where it mattered, where the things lie that had been drilled into him as far back as he could remember.

"There is something else, isn't there?" Artie asked, her silver gaze penetrating.

"If Hestia doesn't hate me, why didn't she visit?" he whispered, feeling guilty about even feeling that way. Hestia was a goddess, and had other duties, and he knew he was feeling incredibly selfish. He knew all that. But he still wanted to _see_ her.

Artie sighed. "Despite everything, you are still young," she said. "Perhaps Aunt Hestia is busy. Perhaps she has other duties to attend to. But in the end, you are still young, and all that doesn't matter when you are a child wishing for a mother figure," she said, gently, for more gently than she had ever spoken to him.

Her hand, still on top of his, squeezed. "Harry, Aunt Hestia will come as soon as she is able, have no fear."

He nodded, only halfway believing her. "You were able to come, and Miss Zoë," the young boy whispered.

She gave him a tiny smile. "How could I not come, when one of the few decent males I know was badly hurt protecting one of mine? How could I not come, when I felt him waking up?" her smile grew a tiny fraction. "And I couldn't leave Zoë behind. She had that look that said she wasn't going to complain, but that she would be hurt if I left her behind. It's remarkably hard to deny her something when she gets like that."

"My Lady!" Zoë protested, but there seemed to be a friendly undertone to it, as if Zoë were complaining for form's sake.

The little moment of levity made him feel better. Zoë had wanted to come see him. He offered her a grateful look.

"Thou art my student, I would be a poor teacher if I did not check up on thee," Zoë said, looking away, as if embarassed.

The young boy shifted his gaze to Artie, who was still seated on the side of his bed. "You felt me waking up?" he asked.

Her smile grew predatory. "Harry, I am a _Goddess_, of course I felt it when one of the people I am attuned to is waking up."

Harry winced. "Sorry," he muttered.

Before Artie could say anything, the door to the infirmary opened and the goddess of the Hunt seemed to teleport away from him and the bed. Suddenly there were two arm's lengths worth of distance between them.

Harry felt the dichotomy well up; Hestia had just walked in. Would she hate him? Despite Artie's reassurances?

The Goddess of the Hearth and Home smiled at her niece. "I'm glad to see you and Zoë came to visit, Artie," the kindest of the gods said.

"Aunt Hestia," Artie replied respectfully. "I'm glad to see you. So is Harry," she teased, sharing a glance with her Lieutenant before shooting a tiny smile in Harry's direction.

The boy frowned and pouted, not knowing what to think, when the Goddess of the Hunt went on to say, "Now that Aunt Hestia is here to keep you company, we should take our leave." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "Feel better soon, Harry."

Zoë graced him with a smile, and another pat on his foot. "Keep thee well, Harry," she said. "Remember that we will up your training when thou visitest next."

harry tried to return the smile, but the worry made it come out as a grimace. Artie's Lieutenant patted his foot reassuringly, then gave an almost-bow to Hestia, before turning to leave with her patron.

Hestia smiled at Harry, and seemed to glide next to the bed. "How are you feeling, Harry? I must say that you gave me quite a startle when you fell out of the fire, injured as you were."

Harry shrunk in on himself, not knowing what to say or how to respond. Something choked up in his throat, and his chest _hurt_.

Hestia frowned, and sat her nine-year-old mortal form on the side of his bed. "What's wrong, Harry?"

His hands calmped shut, his knuckles white, he muttered something.

"Sorry? I didn't quite catch that," Hestia said, leaning closer. He felt the warmth that always permeated the air around her, reaching out to comfort him.

"You'll hate me," he whispered, just a little louder.

Hestia frowned. "I could never hate you, Harry," she said. "It's not in my nature to hate. Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"

She leaned closer, and hugged him. He swallowed the tightness in his throat. Something seemed to release with the warmth and comfort of the Goddess of the Home hugging him, and tears leaked from his eyes as he held on for dear life. Crying and hiccuping, the whole story came tumbling out again.

"I tried to stop him. I tried to tell him to leave. I tried, I really did, Hestia," he sobbed, holding on to hear, crying on her shoulder.

Her hands rubbed his back gently. "Oh, Harry," she said. "I am so sorry that had to happen to you. Rest assured, I do not hate you for it."

He clenched harder. He couldn't bear to look at her just yet. "But you hate violence," he whispered, pathetically.

"Yes, Harry, I do," the kind goddess said. "I hate it when violence is perpetrated, and I hate it when violence is required to deal with it. That does not mean that I hate those involved in it."

Harry sighed; her warmth and her sense of comfort was finally releasing the icy grip of fear and hurt that gripped his heart. "But… you weren't here when I woke up. And you didn't come afterwards, either."

Hestia sighed, and her hug tightened. "I heard the story from Annabeth's perspective," she said. "I went to Olympus to find something for you, something that was in my possession, but I haven't had a need of in my centuries." She sounded a bit embarrassed. "I'm afraid I mislaid it, so it took me some time to find."

Harry finally – finally – lifted his head off her shoulder, and looked at her in confusion. "Something for me?" he asked.

Hestia smiled, and released him. She took something out of her pocket, and presented it to him. On the palm of her hand was a simple silver-colored ring.

"A ring?" he asked, still confused.

Hestia's smile widened slightly. "It is more than just a ring, Harry." She held her hand closer. "It's for you."

He hesitated for a moment, then took it. It didn't feel like regular silver. It felt… softer… somehow.

"Put it on," Hestia instructed.

Harry shrugged, took the ring in his left hand, held out his right, and made to slip the ring on his ring finger. Hestia stopped him, her smile definitely amused now. "No, harry. Never put a ring on your ring finger, either on your left or your right hand. A ring on those fingers indicates engagement or marriage."

"Oh," Harry said. He slipped the ring onto his middle finger instead, and felt it immediately resize to fit him comfortably and securely, but not tightly. He looked at Hestia, as if to ask 'what's next?'

"Spin the ring with your thumb," the goddess instructed.

Harry shrugged, put his thumb on the ring, and spun it around his finger. Suddenly, his hand was filled with several loops of brightly spun gold rope of some kind. "A rope?" he asked.

Hestia giggled, holding her hand in front of her mouth as she did so. "It is a lasso," she explained. "_My_ lasso, in fact. Made by Hephaestus, it will bind any target, including gods. It will change its length depending on the situation, will capture and bind and hold any target, and it compels the truth from those bound by it."

"Whoa," Harry said, studying the lasso he was holding.

"After what happened, I thought that having a weapon that will allow you to immobilize an opponent would be helpful," Hestia went on to explain. "That way, you have an option to bind an adversary instead."

Harry nodded mutely. "Does it really make people tell the truth?" he asked.

The goddess grinned in a conspiring manner. "Yes, it does. Be careful with it, because the truth can be as dangerous as any weapon."

Harry frowned, not understanding. "Stick your hand in the loop," Hestia instructed.

The young boy shrugged, and held the lasso by the loop at the end.

"How do you really feel about the situation?" Hestia asked.

"I'm relieved that you don't hate me, but I'm still sure that you'll grow tired of me one day and abandon me like everyone else." Harry looked horrified. "That wasn't what I wanted to say!" he shouted, immediately dropping the loop of the lasso.

Hestia looked sadly at him. "And thus, the power of the truth," she said. She leaned closer to him, and threw one arm over his shoulders. "You know I will not abandon you," she reassured him. "I, Hestia, Goddess of the Home and the Hearth, the Last Olympian, swear on the River Styx that I will never abandon you."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, but Harry didn't hear it. He was gaping at her, as if unable to believe what he had just heard.

"Isn't that the oath you can't break?" he finally whispered.

Hestia smiled gently, and patted his hands, hands that were still holding the lasso. "It invites grave misfortune upon yourself, and in some cases, even your family, should you break it," she explained. "I do not make oaths I don't keep, so there will be no misfortune to be had."

Harry kept gaping at her, unable to believe just what had happened. The Goddess of the Hearth let her smile deepen, and hugged his limp form. "Trust me, Harry. I will not abandon you."

He just hugged her. "Thank you," he whispered.

He could hear her smile when she answered him back. "You're welcome, Harry."

When he finally released her, he just wiped at his eyes with the back of his left hand, while his right still clutched that awesome lasso Hestia had given him.

"Let's put that away, and I'll make you some food," Hestia said. "You'll be recovering for a while, and you should rest."

Harry nodded mutely, and Hestia showed him how to turn the lasso back into a ring. She then conjured him some food, watched him with a pleased smile as he ate, and then helped him lie back in the bed. She even helped him pull the covers up over him, which he found both strange and oddly reassuring.

It took him close to a week to recover fully; the first few days he could hardly leave the bed to use the bathroom. After those first few days, he felt ready to go back to Helios' temple, but Hestia preferred it if he stayed at the camp a while longer. Since it was Hestia asking, Harry agreed.

He spent quite a lot of time talking with Silena, Louis, the two guys, as well as Annabeth. Strangely enough, Annabeth and Silena had trouble being in the same room together, and neither would tell him why when he asked. He just added it to the 'girls are weird' category.

He also spent quite some time on the beach. For a boy who had seen the ocean for a grant total of two times, every minute spent on the beach was a good one in his opinion. He made sure to thank Poseidon, though – he liked the God of the Sea and wanted to make sure he stayed on his good side.

Regardless of the copious amounts of sleep, rest, and relaxation he got at the camp, by the time he was able to return to the temple he was relieved. There was always so much activity going at camp, and he was looking forward to some time by himself, just living in the temple, cooking in the kitchen, reading the books Hestia had given him.

He had just settled in, a nice pot of mac and cheese heating up on the stove, his book selected, when pounding on the double doors of Helios' Temple interrupted him.

With a small frown, wondering who it was, Harry walked to the door and pulled them open. Of the few people he had expected, the god that he saw was very far down the list.

"Ah," Harry stammered for a moment, before managed to get a hold of himself. "Good afternoon, Mister Ares."


	8. Chapter 8

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 8**

"Ah," Harry stammered for a moment, before managed to get a hold of himself. "Good afternoon, Mister Ares."

The God of War grinned, while his fire-filled eyes bored down on the boy. "Brat," he said, stepping inside of the temple without being invited to.

The presence of Helios showed disapproval, but Ares just glared at the statue and said, "ya wanna do something about it?"

The presence sulked, but did nothing.

"Didn't think so," the God of War answered, smugly, before turning back to look at Harry. The young boy had closed the door by now, and had crossed his arms in vague disapproval, mimicking Helios.

"I heard ya got into a scrap," Ares said, ignoring the boy's frown. "I offered to teach ya to fight, and the God of War keeps his word," he added with an evil grin that sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"I'm still not sure about fighting, Mister Ares," Harry replied softly, looking away.

"Oh?" Ares asked, his fire-filled eyes narrowing, and suddenly glowing an angry red. "Ya want to get your ass kicked over and over?"

Harry shook his head. Deep inside of him, anger welled up. He beat it back. Was this the god's aura?

"Didn't think so," Ares told him, smugly. His eyes narrowed on Harry's hand, and fell upon the ring he was now wearing. "Oh? What's that? A new toy?"

Harry grinned, and rolled the ring to produce Hestia's lasso. "Hestia gave it to me, so I'd have a weapon to defend myself with!" he said, excitedly, and proudly.

Ares took a closer look. "Oh, Hestia's lasso, eh? Looks rather wimpy to me," he said, dismissively.

Harry clutched the lasso to his chest, as if wanting to shield it from the god's words. At the same time, his hands clenched into fists, and he felt an anger the likes of which he hadn't often felt wash over him. Using all the Dursley-instilled self-control at his disposal, he fought the burst of anger down again.

"It isn't!" the boy protested.

Ares leaned in close, so his eyes were at eye level with the boy, and his nose was almost touching Harry's. "It's a weapon from Hestia, who's a bit of a wimp hersel-"

He didn't manage to finish his statement.

Harry stared at his fist, as if unable to believe he had just punched the God of War on the nose. Suddenly realizing that _he had punched the God of War on the nose_, the boy flinched, tightened, and waited to either be killed, cursed, smote, or otherwise sent to see Mister Hades before his time.

To his surprise, Ares was laughing.

"Good! Good!" the God of War crowed. "Ya still have backbone, brat! Glad to see you haven't lost your spine after the beating you took. Many a warrior became a monk after their first taste of combat and bloodshed, but not you, eh? Good!"

Harry stared, flabbergasted, as the shouting god in front of him. "You're not mad?" he finally ventured.

Ares laughed again. "About what? Being punched? After what I said, I damn well better be punched, brat!" The god leaned in closer again. "Listen to me, Brat. Hestia, she's the best of us. We gods, we fight, we argue, we clash, we do horrible things to each other. But Hestia? Anyone and everyone is welcome to sit with her at her Hearth. And those that sit with her? They're left alone. Everyone needs a breather sometimes, and Hestia, she's _always there_ if we need her. There's a reason why the gods are happy to do you a favor or two – it's a way of paying Hestia back for all the things _she_ has done for _us_."

He stood up straight again. "And if ya ever tell anyone I told you that, I'll beat the crap out of you."

Harry nodded dumbly.

"Good," Ares said, seeing the boy understood. "Now, Hestia's Lasso. Take _good_ care of that, brat. It's a divine weapon. It can bind even gods. It never breaks, it will capture its target and hold it, and will force the truth. Be careful of that last one – the truth can hurt worse than any blade."

Harry nodded again. "Hestia explained it to me, Mister Ares."

The God of War waved. "Just Ares. I don't go for the groveling. So, ya wanna learn ta fight? Because I gotta tell you, that punch was pathetic, so I'll teach you to throw one of those first. It's like nobody ever told you how to make a fist."

Harry shrugged. "Nobody ever did. And I wasn't allowed to hit back when people hit me. And I'm still not sure about fighting. Hestia hates violence, and I don't want her to hate me. Even if she didn't hate me after what happened when I saved Annabeth..." he trailed off.

Ares was squinting at him again. "Hestia deplores violence because it hurts the people she cares about. But even then, it's not in her to hate anyone. Case in point, me."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Think of it like this, brat," Ares pushed. "Start no trouble, but take no shit."

Harry blinked, cocked his head, thought, cocked his head the other way, and nodded softly.

"You want to be able to protect Hestia's good name, right?" Ares said, applying just a little bit more pressure. "The next time you go and save someone, or the next time someone insults Hestia, you want to be able to get out of it without being beaten half to death and making it only because of a lucky shot with a knife, right?"

Harry nodded again.

Ares grinned – and it was an awful, bloodthirsty, grin. "Good! Come on, brat. Let's start your lessons."

The boy sighed, asked for a few minutes, and went to turn off the stove and put his food in the refrigerator.

When he was trudging after Ares, Harry was thinking about what just happened. Ares had convinced him to learn to fight, despite him still not being sure. Then he realized, Ares was the God of War. Frightfully violent, always looking for a fight, but, at the same time – War involved armies. Armies, generals, leaders. Ares _knew_ how to lead men. He _had_ to.

By the time they arrived at some kind of large and flat field, Harry's mind was spinning with the twists and turns the god of War had been leading him through. Somehow, they had emerged from between two smaller temples into the wide-open field, yet when Harry turned back, there was no sign of the temples – or even Olympus itself, for that matter.

Ares was grinning, and obviously expecting Harry to ask. So Harry _didn't_ ask. He was still rather angry over what the God of War had said about Hestia, and her awesome lasso, even if he did say he didn't mean it.

When it became clear that Harry wouldn't say anything, the bulky god crossed his arms. "Alright, brat. First lesson in fighting, since it's clear we're starting from nothing, here's how you make a fist."

Harry shrugged and made a fist. Ares grunted dismissively, and corrected him. "The thumb _outside_ the fist. You'll break it otherwise. Now, this is how you throw a punch."

The God of War demonstrated how to throw various punches – a straight jab, a hook, an uppercut. He didn't bother asking or telling Harry to demonstrate.

Instead, he raised his hands, and said, "Think fast, Brat!" and threw a jab. Harry blinked, took the jab to the face, and went down.

The young boy rubbed his face, refusing to show just how much that punch had hurt. "That wasn't fair!" he shouted, as he hurried to his feet.

Ares grinned. "Second lesson, it's only cheating if the other guy does it. When _you_ cheat, it's called 'strategy' or 'tactics'. Think fast, brat!"

He threw another punch. Harry was ready and dodged it. The God of War grinned wider, and started aiming more throws Harry's way, the young boy jumping and running to avoid being hit.

Finally, Ares stopped. "Is there a reason you're not fighting back?" he demanded angrily. "It's no fun if you don't fight back!"

Harry blinked. "I'm allowed to fight back?" he asked.

The God of War dropped his hands and gaped. "Wha-" he broke off. "Right, _those_ people. Yes, you're allowed to fight-" he said, before Harry's tiny fist sucker-punched him in the gut.

The god let out an 'oof' that sounded more surprised than pained, then grinned, and threw a punch back, causing Harry to dodge out of range. "Good, you're listening," Ares complimented, his grin widening to 'bloodthirsty' levels.

"I saw an opening, so I took it," Harry said with a shrug. "You said it wasn't cheating-" he didn't get further as Ares jumped him.

Literally, in fact. Harry managed to get his hands up in time to take a punch that otherwise would have landed in his face, only to receive a hammer-blow to the stomach instead.

He dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, arms clenched around his stomach, and vomited.

"Always be ready to receive what you dish out, brat," Ares laughed loudly. "Now get up, we're doing this again until you manage to throw a decent punch. Or until we need to get Sunspot to heal you, whichever comes first."

Harry painfully climbed to his feet, and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He didn't know who 'Sunspot' was, but from the healing comment, it was likely they were either Mister Apollo, or related to him. Harry felt like he could definitely use the Sun God's help right now.

"Come on, brat!" Ares said, excitedly, throwing a punch. Harry started dodging and looking for an opening. This was going to be a long lesson, he just knew it.

At one point, he was able to throw up an arm and block the next strike coming to his face. Ares' smile widened.

"Good, brat! Block what you can't dodge! Let's kick it up a notch!"

Harry groaned. "Why are you doing this?" he muttered as he started dodging again. Punches still came through his dodging and blocking, and the pained areas slowly started to melt together into a single redhot mass of agony.

Are's grin turned even nastier. "I don't go for the nansy-pansy crap, brat! Best way to learn how to fight is by _fighting_! Be grateful, I'm pulling my punches!" The God of War burst into laughter that could only be described as _maniacal_, Harry stepped back to dodge a right hook, only to trip over his own feet in pain and exhaustion.

Ares stopped swinging, and looked at the bloody, bruised, panting, mass of injury that stayed down and didn't get back up. "Done already?" he needled the boy. Harry remained quiet. The God of War sighed. "Fine, you managed one or two decent punches, so I suppose the lesson is over. You better do better next time, brat."

Harry moaned.

"Come on, brat. I'm taken you somewhere."

Harry groaned, rolled over, and painfully climbed to his feet. Ares tossed him something. "Eat that chunk of Ambrosia, it'll take the edge off."

Harry obediently ate the ambrosia, yet stopped when he reached his maximum tolerance – his blood started heating up, he felt it. "I can't have more than that," he muttered embarrassingly, handing the remainder back to the god.

He was feeling better after eating the godly food – his bruises now looked a couple of days old rather than fresh, and somehow, he hadn't actually sprained or broken anything. Ares was true to his word and had pulled his punches; he was hurting, but not injured. After what he'd just gone through, Harry respected the god more for it; it wasn't easy to pull your punches like that.

Ares grunted. "You demigods are so fragile," he complained. He pushed the chunk back at Harry. "Keep that, brat. Come on."

The boy just nodded, afraid of what Ares would do to him if he said no. Some of the things the god had said made sense, but Harry was sure of one thing. Ares wasn't a nice god to be around. In fact, Ares was a very _scary_ god to be around.

He didn't think he liked Ares anymore. Respected him, yes. Liked him, no.

Obediently, he trudged behind the God of War, suddenly arriving back on Olympus without any indication of how they got there. It made Harry's head spin, but he remained quiet – he didn't want to give Ares the satisfaction of asking.

The boy followed the god to his temple, and went in at Ares' urging.

Inside stood a chariot. It was red and gold, and had pictures of people dying painful deaths adorning it. Harry frowned; those pictures looked horrible. The chariot was pulled by four fire-breathing horses with manes of fire and black in color.

Ares chuffed under his breath. "They probably wanted to show off," he told Harry, pointing to the horses, who snorted and sniffed, small flames shooting out of their nostrils as they did so. "I left them as a _car_." he added with a pointed look at the horses.

The chariot, horses included, shifted form to become a bright red Ford Mustang. "Get in, brat."

Harry opened the passenger door, and made to get in the back. Ares scoffed again. "Just get in the front, brat." Suddenly, the God of War had a different idea. "Wanna learn how to drive a car?" the grin turned nastier, and Harry felt shivers run down his spine. That grin indicated pain.

He was still honestly tempted, though. What eight-year-old boy wouldn't jump at a chance to learn how to drive a car? Still, there was that grin. Despite not having known the god for very long, Harry was a quick learner, and that grin indicated nothing good.

"Ehm… maybe later, Ares?" Harry finally offered, slipping into the passenger seat.

The God of War laughed. "Good choice, brat. Driving this thing is a test for my sons when they reach fifteen. If the car doesn't kill you, you've passed."

Harry shuddered, he was glad he hadn't gone for it now.

It wasn't the first time Harry had been in a manner of Godly transport, he'd ridden in Artie's chariot often enough, but it was the first time he didn't feel completely at ease.

Harry glanced at the God of War, who drove with a kind of suicidal abandon that made Harry contemplate what a meeting with Mister Hades would be like should Ares crash them.

They screeched to a stop, and the bulky god told Harry to get out. Maybe he was being abandoned and had to find him own route back? Artie had promised something similar, but he doubted the Goddess of the Hunt would have done that after a single lesson.

The boy meekly got out, but was relieved to hear the engine cut out, followed by the God of War exiting the vehicle himself.

"Follow," Ares told the boy. Harry meekly followed, crossing the road and walking up to a bar. A bar that had a _lot_ of bikes parked in front of it.

Ares pushed the door open with more force than was necessary, causing the noise level inside to drop for a few moments. Obviously, the God of War was known to the locals, as the noise level picked back up after the men inside identified the interloper.

Harry cautiously followed the man, not sure what they were doing here. "Sit," Ares told the boy, pointing to a stool at the bar. The man took the stool right next to it himself.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked, eyeing Harry and his unhealed bruises for a few long moments, before focusing on Ares.

"Two beers," the God of War ordered. "The boy got into his first fight. That deserves a drink."

A couple of bikers overheard him, and shouted encouragements. "Hear, hear!"

The bartender looked at Harry again, then shrugged and opened two beers before thumping the bottles down in front the two.

"Go on, brat. Some beer will put hair on your chest," Ares encouraged, picking up his beer and taking a long pull from the bottle.

Harry shrugged, picked up the bottle, and mimicked the God of War. He was more used to liquor than beer, but still drained it quickly.

Ares grinned. "Another," he ordered, chugging the rest of his bottle.

The bartender shrugged again, and two more bottles were plunked down in front of them. Harry glanced at Ares, who was grinning.

"Hestia won't like it," he said.

"Hestia ain't here, is she?" Ares retorted.

Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was the heavy beating he'd taken. Maybe it was the God of War's angry _presence_ that was making him edgy, but whatever the cause may be, Harry shrugged, and accepted the comment before taking a hefty pull from the second beer. The bikers roared in approval.

Harry, deciding on showing off, chugged the bottle.

"Whoo! Another!" One of the bikers screamed, his compatriots immediately backing him up.

The bartender glanced at the grinning God of War, and obliged.

Harry sighed; he didn't really like beer all that much. He still drained it quickly, eager for a tingle of the alcohol to take care of the remaining pain in his bruised body.

"Good one, brat!" Ares encouraged. "Give him another," he told the bartender.

The bartender, having some measure of a conscience, shook his head. "I think he's had enough. I don't want to end up without a license because you wanted to drive your brat drunk."

Ares seemed to tense, and his eyed glowed red. Anger washed over Harry like crashing waves of the ocean, and for a moment, all he wanted to do was _jam his knife into someone_. He drew in a deep breath, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists, and desperately tried to calm himself.

The next thing the boy knew; the biker bar had erupted into _violence_, with people throwing chairs, tables, and _other people_.

"Brat, next lesson," Ares said, a mad, bloodthirsty grin on his lips. "This is how you break a bottle over someone's head." He then proceeded to demonstrate, and told Harry to go at it.

The boy, still reeling from the God of War's _Odikinesis,_ the aura to inspire rage and hatred, and halfway intoxicated due to having chugged three beers, shrugged, grabbed one of the empty bottles, and smashed it over a biker's head.

Harry had been on Olympus for quite some time now. In that time, Hestia had taken good care of him, and he had spent many long hours training with Artie and Zoë in the wilderness. He wasn't the scrawny little boy he used to be. In fact, he had gained a wiry sort of strength that came with regular exercise rather than working to build muscle.

And thus the bottle shattered, the man went down, and did not get up.

"You little brat!" snarled the biker who had been fighting the guy Harry just dropped, and rushed _him_ instead.

Harry blinked, startled, and without thinking, hefted a second bottle off the bar and smashed it into the rushing biker's temple. He, too, went down when the bottle shattered.

"Does it really hurt that much?" Harry wondered, staring at the broken bottle he was holding. He was starting to feel somewhat clearheaded again now that he was no longer being rushed.

"Brat, contrary to movies, a glass bottle doesn't break easily. So you probably broke the skulls of those two," Ares said, grinning madly as he picked up two bikers, one in each hand, and smashed their heads together. There was a mighty crunching-breaking noise and the two went down and did not get up.

The bartender suddenly silenced the bar when he drew a shotgun from below the counter, and racked the slide.

"Get out," the bartender snarled at Ares. "I'm tired of your shit! Every time you come here, there's a fight! Get out!"

Ares glanced at a nearby table. Harry ducked without thinking. Ares launched said table at the bartender.

The boy didn't really know what happened next, hiding as he was underneath a barstool, but eventually Ares dragged him back to the car, still laughing.

"That was fun! Good to get the blood pumping!" He glanced at Harry. "Even if you were hiding under a stool like a little sissy at the end there. At least you learnt how to chug beer and drop guys with a beer bottle."

Harry remained quiet. He just wanted to go back to Helios' temple, make some food, and crawl into bed. He didn't like Ares. At all.

The god just kept grinning as he drove them back to Olympus, while Harry did his best to maintain his white-knuckle grip on the armrest, and maintain a stoic expression on his face.

By the time they arrived, and Harry was able to extract himself, he was dead tired. All he wanted was to get back to Helios' temple, finish making that Mac and Cheese, and get some rest. Maybe with a good book.

As Ares' temple was in the center district, close to the temples of the other major gods, Harry had quite a walk in front of him to get back home. He had made it as far as the market district when he was called, and he halted. Hestia had told him to be polite, and it was only polite to stop when someone called you.

Looking around to see who had stopped him, he found one of the few gods he wasn't keen on seeing on the best of days.

"Ehm… hi, Miss Athena," Harry said, hoping the smile he plastered on his face passed muster with the Goddess of Wisdom. A Goddess of Wisdom who had made it clear that she didn't like him being on Olympus during the Solstice Meeting.

"Harry," she said, giving a verbal nudge that may be taken as a greeting. "I wished to talk to you, but you seemed to have been… indisposed."

Harry afforded her a rather sickly smile. "Mister Ares came to Helios' Temple. He wanted to… teach… me to fight, I suppose," he explained.

Athena gave a sharp nod. "That would explain your current bruising."

"Yes, Miss Athena," Harry acknowledged, hoping that the Goddess of Wisdom wasn't here to harm him further.

"Curiously, other than bruising and a mild case of intoxication, you seem unharmed," she stated.

"Mister Ares decided that we should… celebrate… my first fight, Miss Athena. And I think he pulled his punches," the young boy explained.

"I see," Athena replied, studying him for a few moments; moments that made him distinctly uncomfortable. "He must like you, then."

Harry frowned. Maybe he didn't want the God of War to like him. Then again, if Ares didn't like him, maybe he'd stop pulling his punches, which would be worse. And as much as Harry didn't want to, he also realized that it was quite likely he would be getting in other fights in the future, and having the God of War be on the outs with him would only make those fights harder.

"Regardless," Athena said, dragging him from his thoughts. "I wished to speak to you for a different reason."

"Yes, Miss Athena?" Harry asked, hopeful that he was going to get out of this without getting cursed.

"You rescued my daughter," the Goddess of Wisdom said, coolly.

Harry blinked. "I heard Annabeth in the fire, and I could help, so I thought, why not?" he said. He scuffed at the ground with his shoe. "Of course, I didn't know I would have to fight or kill someone."

"I was guiding her towards other demigods who could help her," Athena said, still on that cool and level voice that made Harry worry. "She would have grown from the experience."

Harry flinched; it was going to be cursing and smiting, he could feel it. That was the last time he listened to his instincts, that was for sure!

"That was before she was targeted by that… that… _monster_." Athena's level voice broke, and Harry could hear the simmering anger buried underneath the final word. "Your rescue saved her from a fate that was, in many ways, worse than death."

Harry sighed with relief. No smiting or cursing. He was going to take back his bad thoughts at his instincts. "I'm glad I could help Annabeth, Miss Athena," he boy said with a smile.

Athena dipped her head again. "Still, such an act deserves a reward."

Harry was silent for a moment, trying to organize his thoughts, while the Goddess of Wisdom regarded him. "I… just helped her because it was the right thing to do. I didn't do it for a reward or anything," he whispered, scoffing at the floor again.

Athena sounded amused, and it made him look up at her. "So you would decline a gift from the Goddess of Wisdom? That may not be the smartest move to make."

Harry gaped again. "No! I mean – thanks, Miss Athena. I just… wanted you to know I was glad to help Annabeth, you know?"

Athena still looked amused. "I know. Which is why I am here to offer you a reward. Those that perform acts solely for the purpose of gaining favor, or rewards, are mercenaries. But those that perform acts because they are the right thing to do – those are heroes."

Harry blushed brightly. He wasn't the hero type, not even after he found out he was a demigod. Being called one, especially by a goddess who he knew didn't really like him, meant a lot.

"Make your way to my library tomorrow morning at 8 am, and I shall begin your instruction," Athena said. "I shall give you books. You will read them. You will understand them. And then we will debate them. Then I will give you more."

Harry smiled widely. He loved the books Hestia had given him, and he was hoping that Miss Athena's books would be just as good. "Thanks, Miss Athena!"

"Of course, you may need additional reference materials," Athena went on to say, as if she hadn't heard him. "So I will grant you access to my library whenever you need it."

"Whoa," Harry muttered. "Thanks, Miss Athena!"

The Goddess of Wisdom looked amused again. "Whoa, indeed," she said. Suddenly, she became deadly serious. "You will treat it, and its books, with respect. If I find you misbehaving, even once, not even Aunt Hestia's protection will save you. Do you understand, _demigod_?"

Harry swallowed, pale and sweating, his legs trembling. "Y-yes, Miss Athena."

The Goddess of Wisdom was smiling again. "Good. Then we will have no trouble. Remember, tomorrow morning at 8." She turned and walked away without waiting for an acknowledgement from him.

Harry sighed, and sunk against the nearest wall. After Ares, and now Athena, he really had been pushed this day. He longed for Helios' Temple, and some food, and some peace and quiet.

Somehow, he made it back without further interruptions. He dragged himself in, greeted Helios' statue, and made his way to the kitchen. Throwing the Mac and Cheese on the stove, he fell onto a chair, and found himself panting with exhaustion. His forehead thumped against the kitchen table, as he tried to catch both his breathing and the rest of himself.

"Harry?" a gentle voice said from behind him. Hestia. He hadn't even heard the hearth flare. "Are you alright?" she asked, worriedly.

Harry sighed, and righted himself. He got up from the chair, and hugged his all-time favorite goddess. "Hi Hestia," he said.

Hestia leaned back, and stared at him. "You look bruised again. What happened?" she asked, on a tone that bode no refusal.

Harry smiled sickly. "Mister Ares decided that I needed to know how to fight. I couldn't really say 'no', you know?"

Hestia eyes narrowed. "Is that so," she said, flatly. She leaned in a bit, and sniffed. "You also reek of beer."

Harry's sickly smiled became even more sickly. "Mister Ares also decided that my first fight needed a celebration." He looked down and scoffed at the floor with one foot. "I couldn't really say 'no'. And then Mister Ares caused a bar fight." The young boy tensed, remembering the anger that surged through him. "It's really hard to focus around Mister Ares. I'm so _angry_ when he's near."

"Is that so," Hestia repeated, still on that flat tone of hers. "It sounds as if I will need to have a quiet chat with Ares."

Imagining the brutal God of War's reaction to kind, gentle, Hestia lecturing him made Harry's blood freeze with worry. His head snapped up, and he was about to try and say _anything_ to try and dissuade her, when Hestia smiled reassuringly at him.

"Don't worry, Harry. Ares may be brutal, but he will not harm me." Her smiled gained some more warmth. "Although I am grateful for your concern."

Harry hugged her again. "I'd fight him every day if it meant keeping you safe," he told the Goddess of the Home. "Besides, I think he pulled his punches, and Miss Athena confirmed that, because I only have bruises, nothing broken or injured or anything. Miss Athena said that meant Mister Ares liked me."

"You saw Athena as well?" Hestia asked, reassuringly patting the boy's back. "Was she friendly to you?"

Harry nodded, finally breaking the embrace. "She stopped me on the way home from Mister Ares' temple. I first thought she was angry at me for saving Annabeth, but in the end, she wanted to reward me for it. I need to be at her temple at 8 am tomorrow, and she's taking me to her library. She's going to teach me things, and then I'll have full access to her library! Isn't that neat?"

Hestia smiled as Harry's excitement shone through. She much preferred it when Harry was excited about the life of the gods, and tried her best to keep it that way. "That is nice of her," the Goddess of the Hearth said. "Did she properly thank you?"

Harry thought back to the conversation. "I… she said she was going to give me a reward," he replied.

Hestia's look was resigned. "So she just offered the reward and didn't properly say the words. That is so very much like her. She always has trouble with the niceties," the kind goddess said with a sigh.

Focusing back on Harry, she went on, "Do not worry, though. Athena may be curse-happy, but as long as you treat her, her knowledge, and her library with respect, you have nothing to fear from her. After all, you provided her with a great service. Also, you may want to look at your Mac and Cheese, as I think it's done."

Harry grinned and focused on his cooking, while Hestia took a seat at the kitchen table, mulling things over. The other gods were taking a notice of Harry, and while most of them seemed to only have benign interests, Ares' obsession with teaching the boy to fight notwithstanding, she would have to make sure things stayed that way.

00000

The next morning, strictly at eight, Harry knocked on the doors to Athena's temple. His knocks were soft due to his nervousness – he definitely didn't want to get on Athena's bad side. He didn't want to get on _any_ god's bad side; they all liked Hestia and if he got on their bad side, it would reflect badly on Hestia, and they may stop liking her, too.

He drew a breath when the doors opened on their own. Swallowing deeply to hide his nervousness, Harry walked inside.

"Good, you are right on time," Athena said, still in her godly form of three meters tall. "Come along."

"Yes, Miss Athena," Harry acknowledged, running to catch up with the long strides made by the Goddess of Wisdom's tall form.

Athena's library was attached to her temple, and the main entrance to it was located in said temple. There was a secondary entrance straight from the outside, however, that would allow people in without needing to go through the temple.

Harry gaped when he entered. Athena's library was just as he imagined a huge library to be, with tall, vaulted ceilings and multiple levels of bookcases stacked high atop one another. Obviously, the place was designed for gods, as each level was high enough to comfortable accommodate their three-meter-tall forms.

For a moment, Harry wondered how _he_, as a young mortal boy, would ever get to the top of the cases. Then, he noticed that actual ladders were provided at set intervals.

"Whoa," the young boy muttered.

"Indeed," Athena acknowledged, a pleased little smile playing on her lips. "Come along."

"Yes, Miss Athena," Harry said deferentially. He followed in silence, gaping at the cases.

"Fiction is through there, the full five levels underground," the Goddess of Wisdom said, pointing to a door. "The four levels above ground are entirely non-fiction."

Harry nodded.

"Here is your bookcase, remember where it is," Athena said, stopping in front of a book case that reached to the ceiling of the level they were on.

"These are the books I have prepared for you," She said, pointing to the case. "I expect you to learn them."

Harry gaped at the case, blinked, then looked at Athena, and back to the case. He imagined the books, if put in a pile, would be as tall as he was!

"I realize that it is a fair number of volumes," Athena said, suddenly sounding as if she were holding back laughter. "So we will go through them a couple of books at a time. After you have finished these, I will consider your basic education complete."

Harry's sigh of relief was audible, a fact he realized very quickly and which made him blush. The Goddess of Wisdom's lips twitched, as if fighting down a laugh.

"Your reaction was as humorous as I imagined," she said, causing Harry to pout and the goddess to fight down another smile. She waved at the case. "Look through them, and pick a subject to start with. Remember that I expect you to go through all of them, so I would recommend _not_ leaving the subjects you dislike to the last. You may wish to alternate subjects you like with those you dislike."

Harry nodded at her wisdom, ignored her joking at his expense with the ease of years of practice, and turned to the case.

"You _do_ know how to read, correct?" Athena asked, drawing his attention away.

"Yes, I know how to read, Miss Athena," Harry confirmed, not feeling insulted at the question and smiling widely instead. He _hadn't_ known how to read when he first came to Olympus. "Hestia taught me. She's brought me a lot of books, too."

Athena nodded. "I was aware of Aunt Hestia borrowing volumes from my library. Like yourself, she is allowed to do so. I am pleased you have been taking your education seriously."

Harry grinned. "It's great now that I both know how to read, and that I'm allowed to learn!" he said, enthusiastically, before frowning. "Except for math. Math is _hard_, and I have been working a lot on it because I want to make Hestia proud."

The Goddess of Wisdom allowed her lips to twitch again, ignoring the comment about being _allowed_ to learn, and focused on the last part of the boy's statement. "There are those that do not have aptitude for mathematics," she said. "However, everyone should know at least the very basics of it, and I commend you for working on it."

"Thanks, Miss Athena," Harry said, having more than a little difficulty at deciphering her complex words, but guessing that she paid him a compliment.

He produced his ever-present notebook. "I also found out that it's easier to read and write English if it's in Greek letters. The letters don't dance if they're Greek, even if they make up English words. I don't know how Hestia got books printed like that, though."

Athena did that almost-smile again. "All the books in this library are heavily enchanted to allow them to be read most easily by the reader," she explained, then took the boy's offered notebook.

The first pages were in childish scrawl, and detailed the lessons he had received on surviving in the wild. They were in regular English, and filled with errors. Having expected that, the goddess flipped through the notes.

After the first half-dozen pages, the script became much neater, and the typographical errors all but disappeared when the young boy started printing his words in Greek characters.

"Τηε ξορρεξτ ωαψ οφ σεττινγ υπ α τεντ," Athena read the Greek characters aloud, before reading the actual English words. "_The correct way of setting up a tent,_ indeed," she said. "An ingenious way of working around your limitations."

Harry smiled shyly. "When Hestia explained that I could read Greek but not English, I just figured, why not try it, you know? So I wrote English using Greek characters, and it worked fine."

Athena dipped her head once. "It is a crutch, however. I would recommend working on reading and writing using normal English letters as well. My books are enchanted. Most others out there aren't."

Harry nodded, somewhat dejectedly.

"But that is for later," Athena said. "First, look over the books I have selected for you, and pick a subject."

Harry nodded, and turned back to the massive amount of books waiting for him. "Are there any books on dinosaurs?" he asked eagerly, as he looked over the titles, and glancing once or twice to see if there was a ladder nearby so he could reach the higher shelves.

Athena gave another half-smile. "Just like some of my half-brothers," she commented. "Obsessed with dinosaurs."

Harry turned to grin at the Goddess of Wisdom. "That's because dinosaurs are cool!"

Athena shook her head. "It is hard to argue with that," she replied. "Yes, Harry, there are some books on paleontology in there."

The young boy looked confused, and the Goddess of Wisdom took pity on him. "Paleontology is the study of fossilized plants and animals, among which… dinosaurs," Athena explained.

Harry grinned, nodded, and eagerly went back to his searching through the books. Suddenly, he stopped, and seemed to freeze. Almost timidly, he asked, "Is there anything on fighting, too?"

"Oh?" Athena asked. "Did my brute of a half-brother inspire you?"

Harry shook his head rapidly. "No!" he exclaimed. "But I don't think Mister Ares is going to stop, and even if he pulls his punches and doesn't break anything, it still hurts. So I need to get better." He sighed, and added on a quieter voice, "even if I don't want to."

"You don't want to learn how to fight?" Athena asked, suddenly standing _right next to him_.

Harry's shoulders dropped. "I'm still not sure, Miss Athena," the young boy confessed. "I mean, Hestia hates fighting, and I want to be just like her."

Athena nodded thoughtfully. "It is only normal that you would try to mirror the first good role model you encountered," she said. "From what I understand, Hestia has protected you, guided you, fed you, and clothed you. Trying to emulate her is only natural."

Harry could only nod.

"As a mortal, and especially as a demigod, you may not have the option of total pacifism," Athena said, brutally honest. Harry's shoulders dropped, and he looked at the ground. Everyone was pushing him to fight.

"Here is something that may help you," Athena said, causing Harry to look up. The Goddess of Wisdom pulled a book out of thin air, and handed it to him. "In the Orient, there is an order of monks called _shaolin_, and their philosophy will be of interest to you. They train their entire life in the martial arts, learning many different styles of combat, both in hand-to-hand and with various weapons such as staves and swords. They are known the world over as some of the deadliest fighters."

Harry stared at the book. Those guys sounded awesome, but still… fighting. He'd always been the victim. He knew first-hand how much it hurt, and he didn't want to inflict it on anyone else.

"However," Athena went on to say, "they are also among the most peaceful. Their religion is called _Chan Buddhism_. It prohibits violence, so they will go out of their way to avoid it. However, when all other options are exhausted, they can protect themselves."

Harry frowned in confusion. "Then that's why they train so hard?" he asked.

Athena's lips quirked in that half-smile of hers. "Indeed. First though, they see their training as a form of meditation, a way to attain enlightenment. Secondly, even if you yourself are peaceful, sometimes others aren't. And when others become violent, you must be able to defend yourself, and those that you care for."

Harry nodded slowly. "Mister Ares said 'start no trouble but take no…' he trailed off, not wanting to repeat the profanity of the God of War. "Ah…" he whispered, trying to find a different word but coming up blank.

"I can guess what my oafish half-brother said," Athena said. "Thank you for not repeating it. As inaccurate as it is, it is still a rather decent attempt at a summary. The goal is to train yourself and be ready, just in case, because sooner or later there will be people or situations that call for those skills."

Harry nodded again. "Good," Athena said. "As you are no doubt aware, one of my domains is the domain of War. Contrary to my oafish half-brother, my domain holds the disciplined, _strategic_ side of war." She pointed to the books again. "I shall teach you to use your _mind_ to win any battle before you enter it. In order to do that, you will require knowledge."

Harry nodded eagerly. Thinking his way through a fight sounded awesome!

"Now, find your books on paleontology and we can get started with shaping your mind. You can read that book on Shaolin philosophy later. As I said, maybe it will help you find a reason to train."

"Yes, Miss Athena," Harry acknowledged, turning back to _his_ bookcase. Suddenly, it hit him. He had _his own bookcase_ in the library of the Goddess of Wisdom. This was huge – he couldn't wait to tell Hestia.

"Is there a problem?" Athena asked, noticing how he had frozen and was just staring the books.

Harry shook his head. "No, Miss Athena. It's just… a lot, you know?"

"A good grounding in all subjects is a requirement for a young demigod," the Goddess of Wisdom replied. "By necessity, that includes a lot of work."

Harry just nodded, and started looking for a book on dinosaurs. He heard Athena sigh, and wished he knew what he was doing wrong.

"Here," the goddess said, handing him a thin booklet. "This is the explanation on the Divine Decimal Classification that I am using to catalog books in the library. It'll explain how the books are organized."

"Divine Decimal Classification?" Harry asked, opening the booklet, and leafing through it. It was filled with numbers on one side, and subjects on the other.

"In the 1800's, a mortal called Melvil Dewey developed a system to catalog books in the mortal world. It was rather ingenious, so I expanded upon it to use in my library," Athena explained. "Each class of knowledge has its own number – palenthology is a science, and science has class 500. Paleontology falls under division 6, Fossils and Prehistoric Life – so the books on paleontology would be catalogued under number 560."

The goddess pointed to the case. "Find the books with number 560, they will be organized alphabetically once you hit that number." She focused her intense gray stare on Harry. "I will expect you to know that index soon."

Harry nodded mutely, that classification system sounded complex, but also highly useful in a library as large as this one.

It was close to four hours later, after the clock had struck noon, when Athena let him go. "Good," she had told him. "A mortal's mind exhausts easily and we should not push too much at once. Keep up this work attitude, and you will move through the basic education in no time."

Harry had nodded gratefully, and fled as quickly as he could without making it obvious. The Goddess of Wisdom was a harsh task mistress, and the work he had been doing on his own was nothing compared to what working with Athena was like.

On the other hand, he had learnt more about dinosaurs in those four hours than he had ever learnt on his own, so it was definitely worth it.

He walked back to Mister Helios' temple, digesting the lesson he had just received. He was also carrying the two books Miss Athena had given him, the book on the Shaolin philosophy, and the booklet on the Divine Decimal Classification. He'd had to read them both as quickly as possible, he decided. He didn't want Miss Athena to get mad at him, or think that he was slacking off.

Arriving home, he made himself some lunch, gave a portion to Mister Helios' statue, and sat in front of the fire, eating while he read the booklet on the classification system Miss Athena was using in her library. There was a lot to learn, and a lot of different areas of knowledge had hadn't ever heard about, and he was determined to make good on the education opportunity that he had been given.

He'd managed to keep up with Artie and Miss Zoë, he'd manage to keep up with Miss Athena, too.

"Hello, Harry," Hestia said, strolling almost casually out of the fireplace. Harry grinned at her, looking up from his book, then stood and gave her a hug.

"Hi Hestia!" he greeted back. "Miss Athena let me go at lunch."

"So I see," the Goddess of the Hearth replied with a tiny smile. "How was your first lesson?"

"Exhausting," Harry replied, honestly. "Miss Athena pushes really hard, but I'm learning a _lot_, and she had this entire bookcase filled with books that she said is 'basic education' that she expects me to learn."

Hestia was smiling encouragingly, and nodding politely as Harry rambled. "I do hope that Athena wasn't too hard on you," she said, calmly.

Harry shook his head, hesitatingly. "I don't think so, Hestia. I mean, it was hard, but I kept up, and I think it'll get easier when I get used to it, you know? And Miss Athena is really _really_ smart, so she's been giving me tips on how to make better notes, and how to remember things more easily, so that should help too!"

Hestia's smile grew slightly. On a teasing tone, she said, "Well, Athena _is_ the Goddess of Wisdom. Gods and Goddesses of Wisdom tend to be smart."

Harry just nodded, oblivious to the sarcasm. "Also, I didn't give her a hug," he said, as if admitting to failure. "I don't think she would have liked it – I don't think Miss Athena likes me much. It feels like she's teaching me because she _has_ to, not because she _wants_ to."

Hestia stifled a laugh behind one of her hands at the picture of the stern Athena being hugged by a young demigod. In her imagination, the words 'get it off me' featured prominently, and she had to bite back another laugh. "That was probably a good thing," Hestia said, gently, after composing herself. "Not all people enjoy hugs, and Athena is one of those."

Harry just nodded. "Like Miss Zoë," he said. "Although I think Miss Zoë is protesting just out of habit now. She doesn't even glare anymore when I offer her a hug. She just smiles and holds out her hand now."

Hestia stifled another laugh. "I still don't think you should hug Artie's Lieutenant without her approval," she offered as advice.

The young boy nodded seriously. "Artie said Miss Zoë would hurt me really badly, and then she'd have to curse what's left of me. So I'm not hugging Miss Zoë without her saying 'yes'. I'm still offering, though. One day she'll change her mind. Or she'll forget she's not supposed to, I'm not picky. The moment she says yes, I'm giving her the hug of a lifetime."

Hestia stifled another laugh. Sometimes Harry was too cute for his own good.

**AN: A fellow author called DZ2 contacted me recently, telling me that he was writing his own version of this challenge. He also explained that he was receiving comments about ripping off this story. **

**As we are both writing from the original challenge of Gabriel Herroll, I'm sure quite a few of the details are the same. However, after talking things over with him, I am also quite sure that we are both taking our stories in a different direction. His story is called Harry Potter, Champion of Olympus in case you wanted to check it out.  
**

**I have purposely not read it (yet), as I don't want details from DZ2's story slipping into mine. **


	9. Chapter 9

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 9**

Wiping sweat out of his eyes with his left hand, Harry raised his right, holding the wooden hunting knife, to block a strike coming from his opponent. At the same time, he gasped loudly when a second knife probed his ribs from his wide-open left side.

"Always maintain thy guard," Zoë instructed calmly, while Harry tried to catch his breath. "Again."

The boy just nodded, knowing better than to complain about her using two knives; the last time he had gotten a lecture on mastering one knife before even thinking about handling two. Suggesting she limit herself to one knife had gotten him another lecture on how his enemies wouldn't be so accommodating either, so he grit his teeth and toughed it out.

He lunged for his teacher with his wooden knife. It was swept aside with one knife, and he dodged a strike from the second. "Good," Zoë said, aiming a stab at his exposed torso.

He blocked using his own knife, using the force of the strike as a point of leverage and push himself away from the second strike coming from the other side, and made himself as small as possible. Stabbing up at her from a lowered position, he forced her into an awkward pose.

"Good!" Zoë said as she took two steps backwards to get out of range. "'T was a good try at forcing me out of position."

Harry panted. "Thanks, Miss Zoë," he said, trying to wipe more sweat off his brow, breathing deeply to ease the burning in his lungs and the beating of his heart. They were out in a wide-open field under a burning sun somewhere. He hardly ever knew where the Hunters put up camp, but seeing as he arrived by fire, he didn't _need_ to know.

He didn't relax, knowing the next round could come at any moment.

"We should stop here," his instructor decided, stepping further away to indicate training was over and to let him catch his breath.

Immediately, Harry leaned over, gasping. "You're not even… out of breath," he panted at the Lieutenant of the Hunters.

Zoë shrugged. "'Tis but a matter of training. Thou hast improved rapidly over the last few months, ever since I started training thee in the art of knife fighting."

Harry straightened up. "And Mister Ares jumping me about once or twice a week helps too," he said.

Zoë's face twisted as if tasting something foul. "Yes," she admitted reluctantly. "The God of War forcing thee to fight is helping, too." It sounded as if she found it painful to admit.

"Let us go shoot," she said, as if wanting to change the subject and banish the very mention of the God of War with physical exercise.

"Okay, Miss Zoë," Harry said. The Hunter gave him a single solitary nod, and set a quick-run back to the Hunter's camp.

Harry bit back the groan he wanted to let out, and raced after her. He knew from experience that not keeping up her would displease Zoë, and displeasing Zoë resulted in painful lessons. So he ran.

He had to admit that it was good exercise.

They arrived back at camp, Zoë looking like she was enjoying a leisurely jog, Harry looking like he had just fought off a bear and ran a marathon. Quite a few Hunters hid small smiles. A solitary few gave him a sympathetic look, as long as it was out of sight of any of the others.

They arrived at the shooting range, and Zoë indicated for Harry to pick up his bow, having been left there when he had first arrived at camp.

The boy immediately complied. He was still panting when the arrow was nocked, and he started to aim.

"Shoot," Zoë instructed.

Harry tried desperately to calm himself, holding his breath in an attempt to stop his bow from bopping up and down. Unfortunately, his own heartbeat was interfering.

"_Shoot_," Zoë instructed again. "Thou will not always have the luxury of calming thyself. Thou must learn to shoot while out of breath!"

Harry shot, and managed a passable 8. Zoë disagreed, and ordered him to shoot again. He clipped the 9 band this time, and had a new arrow up before Zoë could tell him to do so.

When he scored a solid 9, edging towards the bull's eye, she stopped him, and made him run a few times around the camp. 'To get the blood pumping again'. Harry sighed, and started running; this was going to be a long afternoon, he could tell.

He was right. Close to two hours later, his entire body was trembling with exhaustion, and his accuracy had waned considerably. What was worse was that Artie had showed up 15 minutes ago, and was watching his 'practice'. He wanted to show her he was good with a bow, and now he could hardly draw, let alone shoot accurately.

"I think he has had enough, Zoë," Artie said when his final shot landed in the paltry 5 ring.

"Disappointing," Zoë said, eyeing him. Harry's shoulders slumped. He hadn't often felt this much like a failure, but here it was.

Artie seemed amused. "You must remember that he is but a mortal boy, Zoë. A demigod, sure, but mortal nonetheless. He has not had the same enhancements as the Hunters."

For a moment, Artie's Lieutenant blinked, gaped, then nodded contritely. "Thou art correct, My Lady." She let out her breath. "I had forgotten." She turned to look at Harry. "Thou did far better than expected. I had… overlooked… thou wert not a Hunter."

Harry looked surprised. He _wasn't_ a failure? "Thou didst well," Zoë repeated at his look. "'T was my own overzealous behavior that pushed thee to exhaustion."

"Ah… thanks, Miss Zoë," Harry said, finally accepting the fact that he had done well, rather than poorly. Zoë's Shakespearean English accent had started slipping as well, so she must be upset about her slip.

"Come on, let's get you a shower," Artie said, motioning towards the shower tent. "Before you stink up my camp," she added with a teasing smile.

By now, Harry was starting to get used to the Goddess of the Hunt's various moods, recognized that she was only teasing, and gave her a smile. "Of course, Artie. I can't give you your hug like this," he answered.

Artie returned a smile and shook her head in played-fake tolerance. Harry grinned. "And who knows, Maybe Miss Zoë will finally let me give her a hug, too."

"Nay," The Lieutenant in question replied with a tiny smile. "Thou should know that by now."

Harry didn't know why he said it. Maybe it was the memory of a conversation he had with Hestia, maybe it was the fact that he felt really good, if exhausted, after a long day's training. Whatever the cause may be, Harry turned to the Huntress, and said, with his finger pointed at her, "One day you'll change your mind, Miss Zoë. Or you'll forget you're not supposed to hug. And that day, that day you say 'yes', is the day I will give you the hug of a lifetime!"

Artie seemed amused by something, while Zoë floundered, for a moment unable to formulate a response.

"And what would be thy next goal?" she finally demanded. "After thou hath hugged me, will thou demand a kiss next!?"

Harry, stunned, hadn't expected that response at all. He opened his mouth, and then closed it when no reply came to mind. The Hunter gave a sharp nod, apparently confident that she had won the verbal exchange. He couldn't let that stand...

Harry turned to Artie. "Artie! Miss Zoë's being disgusting! Tell her she can't kiss me!"

It was the turn of the Goddess of the Hunt to be caught flat-footed by the change in conversation, and from the stunned look on Zoë's face, she was caught off guard as well.

Artie grinned, recognizing a joke, and shook her head. "I find myself in the strange situation of having to defend a male from one of my Hunters. Usually it is the other way around." She sighed, and looked at Zoë. "Zoë, I must insist that you not kiss Harry. It's _most _uncouth."

Zoë's surprised look deepened, and some of the Hunters who overheard the conversation gave muffled laughs. The lieutenant of the Hunters gave them a baleful glare. The muffled laughter stopped. She turned back to her goddess. "My Lady!" she protested.

Artie just laughed, while Harry snickered. Recognizing she had been played, Zoë shook her head. "Thou art bad influences on each other," she declared, but the tiny smile on her lips showed she didn't really mind. It had been a good joke.

"Don't worry, Miss Zoë," Harry said, hoping a peace offering would placate her wrath. "I would never demand a kiss. Kisses are disgusting."

Zoe eyed him. His next training promised to be extra painful. Zoë didn't mind jokes, but she also believed in getting even.

After his shower, his hug with Artie, and handshake with Zoë, Harry fire-walked back to Olympus, and made himself a large dinner. After leaving a portion with Mister Helios, he found himself a good book and relaxed while eating.

He was exhausted, and famished, after the harsh training Zoë had put him through, so the food disappeared quickly, and he went to bed early.

He slept through the evening, and the night, and woke up early the next morning feeling a lot better. Having had his share of Ambrosia in his dinner, his muscles had healed overnight so he wasn't even stiff, let alone sore.

He decided on having a quiet and calm day; as healed as his body was, he still _felt _tired.

After breakfast, he gathered his cleaning supplies and whistled a small tune while preparing to uphold his _other_ bargain with Helios – keeping his temple clean.

Whistling, he dusted and cleaned. By the time lunch rolled around, he was almost ready to start mopping the floors, getting rid of all the dirt that his other cleaning efforts had stirred up.

He had just about sat down to his lunch, when a rapid and urgent knocking was heard on the door. Frowning, Harry made his way to the large double doors. Who could it be, and why did they sound so urgent?

He pulled one side of the double doors open, revealing a furtive figure dressed in a long hooded cloak, said garment completely obscuring the figure's features. Harry didn't even know whether it were a man or a woman!

"Can I come in?" the figure asked. The voice was masculine, but muffled so Harry couldn't place it. The boy frowned, but his instincts weren't reacting. Trusting the fact that he didn't feel like he should be getting away _right now_, Harry stepped back and let the figure in.

No sooner had he closed the door, or the figure threw back the hood of his cloak, and straightened up where he had obviously been stooping under the bulky garment.

The young boy blinked. "Hello, Mister Hermes," Harry said, immediately recognizing the God of Messengers.

The god immediately waved his hands and made shushing noises. "Don't say my name, nobody can know I'm here!" he said, urgently.

"Ehm… right, Mister He… er… Mister H. What can I do for you?" he stammered, almost repeating the god's name despite having just been told not to, and correcting himself at the last possible time.

Hermes grinned slightly. "You learn quickly, I like that about you, Harry," the god said, rubbing Harry's messy hair. Harry pouted; he hated being reminded of his messy hair. Hestia had warned him that Aphrodite, or her daughters, would probably never let go of him trying to tame it.

The young boy thought his favorite goddess was exaggerating. Silena definitely hadn't said or done anything weird.

"Anyway, why I'm here," Hermes went on to say, dragging Harry's thoughts back to the present. "I… eh… need some help. Under the radar, so to speak."

Harry blinked. "How can I help, Mister He… Mister H? And what does 'under the radar' mean?"

Hermes grinned. "'Under the Radar' means nobody knows, Harry."

"You mean, like a spy?" the young boy asked, excitedly. Every boy wanted to be a spy at one point!

The God of Messengers smiled widely. "Exactly like a spy. Now, your mission, should you chose to accept it, is to do that fire-walking trick Aunt Hestia taught you, and get my son and his companions to camp. I know you've helped Athena's girl, so you can do the same here."

Harry nodded. "Sure, if I can find them. Why don't you want anyone to know, though?"

Hermes sighed. "The Ancient Laws forbid interference. We can get away with little nudges here and there – a feeling, a dream, things like that. But outright interfering? That's a no-no. So, I want you to travel to my boy and his friends, and get them to camp, and do it without anyone knowing it was me asking."

Harry nodded again. "I just have to find them. How many friends do I need to take? Because I'm not sure how many I can take in one go."

Hermes grinned. "It's just my son, he's called Luke Castellan, by the way, his friend Thalia Grace, Daughter of Zeus, and a Satyr by the name of Grover Underwood. They're being chased by monsters, so the sooner, the better. Also, I _am_ the God of Travelers, and your fire-walking is a form of traveling, so I can… nudge… you towards their camp fire tonight."

"That sounds good, Mister H. I'll get them to camp. Ehm… a daughter of Zeus, though?" Harry asked.

Hermes grinned crookedly. "The big guy would never deign to ask anyone to help his precious princess; he seems to believe she's the next coming of… well, himself, I suppose. He probably couldn't fathom that she would ever need help."

"Everyone needs help sometimes," Harry said, recalling the various lessons that had been knocked into his head by various godly and demi-godly trainers.

Hermes nodded in agreement. "Right you are, Harry. Keep an eye out tonight, and I'll guide you to their camp fire."

"If they don't want to go, Mister H," Harry began, tentatively. "I mean… Annabeth didn't want to go, and we were jumped. I don't want the same to happen, and with there being three of them..."

Hermes looked serious. "Harry, Grover should know of you, you brought Annabeth to camp, after all. But if you need to poke them a bit, I certainly won't hold it against you. The Big Guy, on the other hand..."

Harry shrugged. "Mister Zeus already hates me anyway," he said, fatalistically.

Hermes looked sad. "Right."

The young boy patted Hermes' shoulder, grateful that the god had appeared in mortal form. He so preferred the gods' mortal forms, it made them seem more… human. Easier to interact with. "Miss Hera will protect me, though. I can't imagine she's too happy with Mister Zeus having a daughter."

Hermes grinned. "Right you are, Harry. Right you are. Anyway, I have to get back to work. Lots and lots of packages to deliver!"

"Good luck, mister H!" Harry chirped, waving at the god as he stooped, hid under his cloak, and threw his hood up.

That evening, Harry nervously watched the fire. He had stashed his bow and arrow next to the hearth, ready to be grabbed as he passed by, and kept an eye out for Mister Hermes' signal.

To pass the time, he was playing with Hestia's Lasso. Strangely enough, the divine weapon behaved like an eager puppy, almost reading his mind as he flicked it about, sometimes spinning it over his head the way movie cowboys did in old westerns, before throwing it at something.

The lasso seemed eager, and unless he _really_ messed up the throw, it usually captured what he was aiming at. With a flick of his wrist, it usually released what it had captured, too, and he was able to pull it back.

As the mystical weapon was able to grow or shrink at will, without real effort on his part, Harry had even managed to 'capture' a heavy cabinet and drag it effortlessly across the polished floor, simply by willing the lasso to shrink. Next time he wanted to do a yearly cleaning of the temple, it was going to come in handy to move heavy furniture.

Suddenly, his awareness of the fire _pinged_, for the lack of a better word, and Harry sighed. He stood up, turned the lasso back into a ring, and grabbed his bow and quiver of arrows. He checked his hunting knife, safe in its scabbard on his belt, and straightened his shoulders.

He didn't feel anything out of the ordinary from his instincts, which could be either good or bad.

He stepped in front of the fire, and hesitated, remembering the last time he had tried to escort a demigod to Camp Half-blood. Then he drew in a breath; he had made a promise and Hestia would be disappointed in him if he did not keep his promises. Mister Hermes would, too, no doubt.

Having gathered his courage, he waved his hand at the fire, and he could feel the God of the Travelers 'connecting' him; it was a strange sensation to connect one fire to another without having conscious control over it, but Harry ignored it. He had a job to do.

He stepped through, to arrive in a darkened warehouse, staring into the blackness of the night that spread beyond the influence of the fire.

"Hello? I come in peace!" Harry said, looking around, trying to discern any movement. Unfortunately, his eyes hadn't yet adapted to the complete dark.

"That's what everyone says!" A teenaged boy's voice replied. At least, Harry assumed the voice was teenaged, as it was no longer the voice of a child, and had cracked with the onset of puberty.

"I'm here to escort two demigods and a Satyr to camp," Harry said to the darkness, his eyes starting to adjust. He looked around with narrowed eyes, trying to find the source of the voice. "The Satyr, Grover, should know me. I brought another demigod to camp, too."

"Who are you here for?" a girl's voice demanded from the complete opposite side of the fire. Harry spun around, suddenly feeling extremely exposed.

"Luke Castellan and Thalia Grace," Harry told the darkness.

"Just Thalia!" the girl's voice shouted, before silence descended.

Harry heard muffled footsteps.

Whispers.

His vision adapted, and as long as he didn't look directly at the fire he could make out three figures huddled together in the shadows. One was a tall boy, likely Luke Castellan, age 14. The other was a shorter girl, likely to be Thalia, aged 12. The third had goat legs and would be the Satyr, Grover.

"Why should we trust you?" Luke demanded. "You could be taking us anywhere!"

Harry blinked, was every demigod going to mistrust him? "I was asked by someone who didn't want it known who he was to bring you to camp," Harry said, miffed. "So that's what I'm here to do. Ask Grover, he should know me."

"He also said you arrived beaten and battered," Thalia snapped. "Who knows what happened before you brought her to camp?"

Harry blinked, not having expected that. The Satyr hadn't been paying attention, obviously. He sighed, starting to lose his patience. "I came to bring Annabeth to camp. She was stubborn and stupid, like you guys, and didn't trust me. We were attacked – I had to kill a man to get her to camp."

"You try being attacked every day for months on end, and see how much _you_ trust people who appear from fires, Squirt," Luke snapped back. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. What was it was demigods and not trusting him? All he wanted to do was help!

_Mister Hermes, your son and his friend are very stubborn,_ he told the god silently. He didn't know whether Hermes was listening or not, but the frustration got the better of him.

"So how can I prove I'm here to help?" Harry asked.

More whispers.

"You said someone asked you to help," Luke finally answered. "Who was it?"

Harry sighed again, he sucked at this spy thing. "Someone who asked to remain anonymous, who definitely _isn't_ your father as that would be breaking the Ancient Laws and he'd be punished severely."

"My father?" Luke asked, surprised.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "Definitely _not_ your father. As I said, that would be against the Ancient Laws."

"Stands to reason that my deadbeat dad finally did something and couldn't even be bothered to show up in person," Luke said with a grunt.

"Because that would get him punished," Harry repeated, standing up for Mister Hermes. And really, wasn't Luke listening?

"What's the worst that could happen? He's a god!" Luke snapped, his temper flaring.

"Mister Zeus would strip him of his divinity, and stuff him in a mortal body. He's done it to Mister Apollo a couple of times," Harry answered, trying to maintain his cool. Training with Mister Ares seemed to help, there had been times where his temper would have gotten him into _real_ trouble.

"What?" Luke asked, surprised. "He could actually be kicked down?"

Harry nodded. "Mister Zeus is nasty."

"No kidding," Thalia inserted. "The guy screwed over my family big time. Drove my bitch of a mom to drink, too."

Luke seemed startled at the revelation of what could potentially happen to his father.

Howls broke the silence, and Harry frowned, looking around. To his surprise, his right hand was suddenly holding his bow.

"Great, they found us," Luke grunted, drawing a sword.

Harry waved at the fire, turning it green. "We're out of time, come on!" he urged them, waving at their exit.

"I'm not going anywhere with you until I know we can trust you!" the blonde boy shouted.

Crashing noises came from around them, and Harry's instincts suddenly burst into life. This was very, _very _bad.

Luke jumped at something jumping from the shadows, and Harry suddenly realized it was an _enormous_ dog, like a giant black mastiff the size of a rhinoceros, with evil, red-glowing eyes.

An arrow bounced off its skin. "Celestial Bronze, idiot!" Thalia shouted, having engaged a second beast, warding it off with a shield that had suddenly appeared on her arm, and a knife she had pulled from her belt.

Harry wanted to curse under his breath; he'd been told about the monsters from Greek Mythology that hunted demigods, but he had never actually made the connection about _needing_ Celestial Bronze arrows.

Grover pelted the giant dog Luke was fighting with tin cans; a tactic that appeared about as useful as Harry's use of mortal arrows.

Harry sighed, and tried again, evening his breathing, aiming carefully. The giant dog moved; his instincts drove him. He didn't know why, but suddenly he just _knew_ that he had to shoot _right now_, and he let fly.

The arrow was set to bounce off the giant dog's neck, only for the animal to stumble backward and receive the arrow straight in the eye. It howled ferociously, thrashing wildly as the mortal arrow stuck from its eye.

"Great shot, but now you pissed it off!" Thalia commented angrily. "Next time, don't bother!" she jumped away as the giant dog swiped at her, raging mad and half-blind.

Harry cursed under his breath, immediately followed by hoping Hestia hadn't heard him. He drew another arrow.

_Artie, please? I need some help? There are these monsters, and my arrows don't do anything… Can you help me? Please? _

He was aiming down the shaft, knowing his mortal arrow wouldn't be of any use. He was still hoping, and praying, that Artie would be able to offer him some help.

Suddenly, the tip of his arrow glowed bright silver.

_Thanks, Artie! You're great!_ He prayed to his second-favorite goddess, and let loose. The enchanted arrow seemed to explode through the giant dog's skull, immediately dissolving it into golden dust. Harry didn't bother staring at it, instead drawing a second arrow, and aiming for the dog Luke was fighting.

He hoped… yes, the second arrow's tip lit up, too. He shot another grateful prayer in Artie's direction, and let loose. The second dog exploded, too.

"Where did you get those arrows from?" Luke asked.

"And why didn't you use them from the start?" Thalia demanded, hands on her hips. Harry took a step back, the raven-haired girl looked really mad.

"They're just mortal arrows, so I prayed to Artie for help. I'm glad she did," Harry explained. "She enchanted my arrow tips."

"Artie?" Thalia asked.

Harry nodded. "Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt. She's awesome."

Grover bleated, a sound that Harry found surprising, despite it coming from a half-man, half-goat. Thalia and Luke stared at him. He was getting tired of people staring at him whenever he explained about Artie.

"I trust him," Grover finally announced. "He's got Lady Artemis' favor, and he just helped us kill those hellhounds."

Hellhounds? Were that what he had just killed?

Luke eyed him for a few moments, then nodded. "Fine," he said.

Thalia sighed, and sheathed her knife. The cool shield she was wearing vanished.

"Then go," Harry said, waving them to the still-green fire. He was a bit annoyed at them dragging it out long enough for them to be attacked – even if this time, he hadn't had to kill a man.

Just a couple of hellhounds, whatever those were.

Thalia, Luke, and Grover stopped in front of the fire, and Harry rolled his eyes. Now what was the matter?

"Ehm..." Luke said. "How does this work?"

Harry pointed to the fire. "You step into the fire. The next moment, you're stepping _out_ of the fire at camp. There's nothing to it, really."

Luke nodded, hesitatingly. Just as Thalia looked about ready to speak, the boy stopped her. "Fine, I'll go first." He stepped forward, as if afraid his courage would desert him, and vanished the moment he stepped into the fire.

"You sure he's…?" Thalia asked.

"He's at camp, just fine," Harry said. The girl nodded, and made to step forward. She turned to him.

"If I end up burned, I'm making your life miserable, Twerp," she promised him, before spinning, and vanishing into the fire. Harry sighed; it was just fire-travel, he didn't get what they were so worried about.

Grover bleated again. "Come on," Harry told the Satyr.

"I was supposed to guide them to camp," he complained. "I suppose this means I failed my mission."

Harry grinned. "You found them, you guided them, and they made it to camp. That makes your mission a success. Think of me like taking the bus," the boy told the Satyr. "Come on."

Grover shuffled forward, eyeing the fire nervously.

Harry sighed, grabbed the Satyr's shoulder, and stepped. The moment the fire touched him, he let it whisk him away, taking Grover with him. The next step, they emerged from the central fire that burnt in the middle of the U of Godly Cabins.

"There we are, safe and sound," Harry said, grinning at Grover, who was busy checking himself for any lost limbs.

Thalia and Luke were eyeing the environment, and Harry approached. "See? Not even a sunburn."

The daughter of Zeus grunted. "You brought us here so I'm not thumping you for that one, Twerp," she said, brandishing her fist nonetheless. She was smiling, though, so Harry took it as a friendly joke.

"Harry?" a girl's voice asked from behind him.

Smiling, Harry turned towards Silena. "Hi Silena!" After giving his friend a hug, he motioned to the newcomers. "Is Chiron around? These are Thalia Gr-" he stopped from Thalia coughed, and remembered she had Dursleys herself. "Daughter of Zeus, Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes, and Grover Underwood, Satyr. Guys, this is Silena Beauregard, Daughter of Aphrodite."

"More strays, Harry?" the girl teased, before nodding. "Yeah, Chiron is around. He should be here shortly, that green fire doesn't go unnoticed."

As she spoke, the centaur in question clopped up. "Harry, welcome," he spoke. "I see you brought newcomers."

Harry nodded. "Someone who definitely isn't Luke's father asked me to help them get to camp. Chiron, this is Thalia, Daughter of Zeus, and Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes."

The centaur managed to hide a smile, and turned to the new arrivals. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood," he said, smiling gently. As he spoke, lights went off above the two new demigods, making Harry gape. He'd heard about a god claiming their children, but this was the first time he witnessed it.

Chiron went to one knee, as did Silena, and any other demigod in sight. Harry looked around, confused. What were they doing?

"Hail Thalia, Daughter of Zeus, and Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes," Chiron intoned ritualistically.

The others were climbing to their feet, and Luke looked rather uncomfortable. Thalia, on the other hand, looked like she enjoyed that. Harry didn't know what to think about that; people shouldn't enjoy other people kneeling to them, right?

He was about to say something, when Chiron frowned and looked over his shoulder. The next moment, the centaur looked shocked, then stepped back, deferential toward whoever was approaching.

Harry grinned when he recognized Artie. "Hey, Artie!" He said, waving at his second-favorite goddess, a second-favorite goddess whom he had to do something very nice for after the help she had given him.

Artie didn't look pleased. In fact, she looked rather displeased.

She walked up to him, making his smile freeze, and poked him in the chest. "What," she demanded, "did you think you were doing?"

Harry swallowed. Angry Artie was scary Artie. "Ehm… I was asked to help Thalia and Luke to camp, and we got jumped by Hellhounds, so I tried to shoot them but my arrows bounced off and Thalia said I needed Celestial Bronze which I didn't have so I prayed to you for help and _please don't be mad at me_," he managed out in one single breath, before needing to take a very deep gulp of air.

Artie studied him for a moment. "At least you have the brain to ask for help when you're in over your head," she stated. "Good shooting, and remember Bronze arrows next time," she added, patting him on the shoulder, giving him a wide smile, and turned to Thalia and Luke, who were staring with open mouths.

Harry sighed, before realizing that Artie had just _played_ him. He pouted slightly, while inwardly feeling elated that the Goddess of the Hunt had complimented his shooting.

Zoë, as ever the loyal shadow to Artie, approached him, looking him up and down, obviously studying him for injuries. "Thou survived they first hunt," she stated calmly. "Although I am disappointed thou didst not think to bring bronze arrows."

Harry smiled somewhat apprehensively, hoping to calm Zoë's temper. "I… don't have any?" he offered. "Mister Apollo made the bow, and the arrows, but they're all mortal, and I just didn't think about getting any Celestial Bronze arrows."

Zoë smirked. "Although thou didst hit one in the eye. That was an incredible shot; many of my sisters would have struggled to hit the eye of a Hellhound in the midst of combat."

Harry started smiling. "Not that it did much good," the Lieutenant of Artie's Hunters said. "Thou wert lucky that Lady Artemis favors thee and decided to assist thee."

Harry nodded, head bent, one foot scuffing at the ground.

"Regardless, My Lady only enchanted thy arrowheads. The skill was all on thee." She reached over, and patted his shoulder, which was probably as close as Zoë ever got to physical affection. "Thou survived, thine prey did not, and thy charges were uninjured. 'T was as successful a hunt as a hunt could be."

"Thanks, Miss Zoë," Harry said, shyly looking up at her. The Hunter gave him a smile and a nod, then stepped back, and walked up to where Artie was talking with Thalia and Luke.

"Thalia Grace," Zoë said.

"Nightshade," she replied.

"Thou hast not changed thy mind?" the Hunter asked with a smile playing on her lips. Thalia crossed her arms and leveled a glare at Zoë. Harry thought it was a reasonably impressive glare, but it held nothing on the Dursleys – and definitely nothing on Angry Artie. Apparently, Zoë thought the same thing, as she ignored it with ease.

"We must depart," Artie said, turned to Chiron, whatever conversation she had with Thalia and Luke apparently over. "We just came to make sure my wayward student hadn't gotten himself hurt again."

Harry felt his heart swell at the thought that Artie and Zoë had dropped by camp just to make sure he was alright.

"He was barely approaching acceptable, 't would have been a massive hassle had injury set him back," Zoë said, looking at him while quirking the side of her lip to show she was teasing.

Chiron gave a chuckle. "Completely understandable. I feel the same way about some of my own students. You are, of course, always welcome here."

Artie gave the Trainer of Heroes a nod, then turned and walked away, Zoë at her shoulder. Within moments, they had vanished, as if they were never there.

Chiron turned towards the younger boy, and said, with a rather mischievous smile, "From the discussion, it appears you aren't carrying any Celestial Bronze arrows."

Harry nodded. "I just don't have any, you know? I didn't think I'd need them, either," he confessed. "The bow was for hunting food, and I just never thought I'd use it for monsters."

Chiron smiled faintly. "You are young still, and oversights are part of learning," he said. "Follow me."

Harry nodded in agreement, and followed the centaur. Part of him felt elated at having completed his mission, without injuries, and with two less monsters out in the world. The second part felt like failure for not having foreseen monsters.

They arrived at the armory, and wordlessly, Chiron entered it. He emerged a few moments later, holding out two quivers, filled with Celestial Bronze arrows. "Here, young Harry. These should help."

Harry smiled. "Thanks, Mister Chiron," he replied, feeling slightly worse now – he should have thought about Celestial Bronze arrows, and he should have thought about asking for them at camp.

"Don't feel too bad, young Harry," Chiron said, supportively. "Making mistakes is how we learn. I'm quite sure this is one mistake you will not be repeating. The most important fact isn't that you made a mistake, it's that you're taking steps not to repeat it."

Harry nodded agreeably, that sounded like excellent advice. Learn from mistakes, as they are a valuable lesson.

He arrived back at Helios' temple half an hour later, after having said his goodbyes. He was kind of curious why he hadn't seen Annabeth. Maybe she had been busy with a project; he knew how he himself could be when he was cooking.

He put away his bow, his old quiver, and the two new quivers filled with Celestial Bronze arrows, and started preparing for the evening.

After a long soak in the hot baths outside, and changing into a comfortable set of pajamas, Harry wandered into the kitchen, opened his recipe book, and started looking up cakes. Artie had really helped him out, so he was going to make her the best cake he could as a thank-you.

"Baking?" Hestia asked, suddenly looking over his shoulder.

"Hestia!" Harry crowed at her sudden appearance. The book was put down, and he captured his all-time favorite goddess in a tight hug.

"Hello, Harry," she answered with a smile, hugging him back. She pulled back shortly later, and eyed him. "Baking?" she repeated her question.

The young boy nodded. "Artie really helped me out earlier, so I decided I was going to bake her a great cake as thank-you."

The Goddess of the Home smiled, and leafed through the recipe book, looking to see what recipes Harry had unlocked yet, and finally settling on one. "I heard about your little adventure. I'm glad that you're alright and were able to bring Thalia and Luke to camp. They've settled in well, by the way."

Harry looked at the recipe Hestia had picked out, nodded, and then smiled at her. "I'm really glad."

"I'm also pleased that Artie helped when you prayed," she went on to say, smiling gently. "I'm sure the cake will go over well as a thank you."

"Thanks, Hestia,' Harry said, grateful for her suggestion.

"On to other matters," the Goddess of the Home said, drawing Harry attention from where he was already planning for tomorrow. "I was finally able to find someone willing to offer you lessons in magic."

"Really?" Harry asked, smiling widely. "That's great!"

"There is, however, a condition," Hestia stated.

Harry grinned, and nodded. "There always is. I can't seem to have a single conventional teacher."

Hestia laughed softly. "It seems that way," she answered. "Her name is Circe. Like Artie, she doesn't really like boys – or men – that much. She is willing to come here and offer you a lesson, however, like Artie, she will consider giving you further lessons only if she feels you are not wasting her time."

Harry grinned. "Just like Artie, and Miss Zoë, and Miss Athena," he said, bouncing up and down. "And Mister Ares, I suppose. He likes 'teaching' me," he added with air-quotes.

Hestia shook her head. "Sometimes, I can not imagine what goes on in Ares' mind," she offered.

Harry laughed softly. "So all I have to do is impress Miss Circe enough?"

The Goddess of the Hearth offered a single nod. "Exactly," she said, before remembering something. "Oh, one more thing. Circe has made… enemies. So you may wish to keep quiet that you are learning from her. She's mostly doing it to annoy her mother, I think, but any lesson is better than no lesson at all."

Harry blinked. "Her mother?"

"Circe's mother is Hecate, goddess of Magic," Hestia explained. "Hecate's rather insular and doesn't really like interacting with people – any people – at all. Circe's father is… was… Helios, so the fact that he has granted you sanctuary in his temple probably helped."

The young boy just nodded. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting lesson, he could tell. His potential teacher disliked boys and men, and was going to teach him to get back at her mother, and because he lived in her father's temple. He needed to keep things straight, or he was going to trip over himself.

Hestia stayed and chatted for another half an hour before taking her leave, and Harry turned in soon after. He was going to have a busy day tomorrow; that delicious cake for Artie wasn't going to bake itself.

He had fallen asleep and started dreaming, when pounding on the doors of the temple woke him up.

As banging on temple doors wasn't something he had ever experienced in the middle of the night, he was in complete stress-mode as he grabbed his dressing gown and _ran_ to the doors, rushing to find out what the emergency was.

To his surprise, it was Mister Hermes in his strange disguise, and the God of Thieves slipped inside the moment Harry yanked the door open. The boy let it fall shut, turning to the visiting god.

"Harry!" Hermes said, pleasantly, as he threw his hood back. "I'm glad to see you completed your mission!"

"Mister He- Mister H?" Harry corrected himself, almost speaking the god's full name. "What's wrong?"

Hermes blinked. "Nothing's wrong, Harry. Why would anything be wrong?"

The young boy gaped at the god. "Ehm… because you were pounding on the door in the middle of the night, Mister H?" he offered. "I kinda thought it had to be an emergency if it couldn't wait until morning."

Hermes blinked, looked surprised, looked at his watch, blinked again, and looked sheepish. "Right. Gods don't really get tired like mortals, and this thing is still in the wrong time zone. Lots of packages to deliver and all that. Sorry about the mix-up and waking you up."

Harry shook his head. "I'm just glad nothing's wrong," the boy offered with a smile. "What can I do for you, Mister H?"

Hermes' grin returned. "This time, there's something I can do for you," he said. "After all, you helped me out, got my boy and his friends to camp, and didn't even ask for a reward. The hellhounds didn't leave any trophies either, the tightwads. So, I thought I'd repay the favor."

"That's really nice of you, Mister H," Harry said, smiling shyly. "You know I didn't do it for a reward, right? I just like helping people."

Hermes grinned, and ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "Don't worry, Harry. Anyway, I'm inviting you to a gathering I have with a couple of my friends next week. We're doing a study in non-deterministic probability."

It took him a few moments to decode that. "Maths?" Harry finally asked. "I'm not good at maths, Mister H."

The God of Thieves laughed softly. "Don't worry, Harry. My friends and I are excellent teachers. We'll teach you everything you need to know."

The boy nodded. "Alright, Mister H. that sounds good, I can use all the help I can get with maths."

Hermes laughed again, and ruffled Harry's hair once more. "I'll let you go back to sleep. I'll drop you a note on the exact day and time, we're all very busy and times may shift a little."

Harry nodded his acceptance, and Hermes threw his hood back over his head and slipped out. Shrugging, the boy turned to Helios' statue. "As a reward for getting Thalia and Luke to camp, I'm getting maths lessons. You know, Mister Helios, somehow I think it's working twice for no reward."

Helios' presence seemed to chuckle and pat Harry's back. The boy sighed, and went back to bed.

He fell asleep quickly. It had been a long and stressful day.

The next morning, he made breakfast, and after sharing it with Helios, got ready for his new magic teacher's appearance. He was wondering what she would be like.

He didn't have to wait long, and soon Hestia was leading a tall woman through the fire. She had dark hair and green eyes, and Harry could feel the power inside of her; contrary to the other gods he had met, she wasn't hiding her power at all.

Or maybe her power was just _different_ enough for him to feel it.

"Circe, this is Harry. Harry, meet Circe," Hestia introduced with her customary gentle smile.

"Hello, Miss Circe," Harry offered politely, smiling slightly, hoping that he was making a good impression.

The woman stared at him, not saying anything. Harry swallowed. He didn't like being stared at at the best of times, and this woman was making him decidedly nervous; it was as if she didn't even see _him_, but rather was seeing _through_ him.

Circe's green eyes narrowed, and she approached with strides that belied her speed. Somehow, it was as if she were getting twice the motion for half the effort, while staring at something about him that only she could see.

"Harry," she finally said, staring down at him from point-blank distance. It wasn't a nice _Harry_. It wasn't even a friendly _Harry_. It was a 'you are an interesting specimen' kind of _Harry_, and he didn't like it.

He wanted to take a few steps back, put distance between the two of them, but something told him that would be a bad idea. He remained rooted where he stood.

"Tell me," Circe finally spoke after a tense twenty-second silence. "Have you ever been attacked by monsters?"

Harry blinked. "Ehm… I killed a couple of hellhounds yesterday, Miss Circe. But I don't think they were after me, if that's what you're asking. I don't think any monster was ever after me, not like they were after other demigods. Which is really odd."

The Sorceress nodded. "I thought so." She turned to Hestia. "I can not teach the boy. Likely it's for the same reason my mother declined as well."

Harry blinked, not used anymore to being talked _about_ rather than being talked _to_.

"Why not?" Hestia asked, still friendly, but an undercurrent of steel in her voice. Harry, knowing Hestia very well, could hear it. He didn't know if Miss Circe could.

"The boy has an enchantment upon him," Circe said, turning back to look at Harry. "It has a decidedly feminine feel to it, so likely it was his mother. Unless his father was effeminate. Whoever it was, the enchantment upon the boy is… beautiful. A work of art. A true master's piece. It took the sacrifice of a life, and the offering of a large part of the boy's magic, and wove an intricate protection around him."

Circe broke off her narrative, and narrowed her eyes. "And someone already messed about with it."

"What do you mean, Miss Circe?" Harry asked.

Circe studied him. "Someone enchanted you. By the sacrifice of their life, they protected you. Your magic, a large part of it, is being used to sustain it. In its original form, this protection was absolute. Someone could walk up to you, and shoot you, and the attack would rebound, killing the offender. In essence, every monster in the world could walk up to you, attack you, and all they would accomplish was killing themselves."

Her eyes narrowed again, and she looked angry. "Someone then messed with this protection, making it incredibly fragile. It changed from an active defense to a passive defense – in essence, not a single monster can detect you. However, should they run across you, they can attack you, hurt you, injure you, and kill you. Whoever messed with it should be hung, drawn, quartered, beheaded, and have their remains burnt and scattered to the four winds."

Harry blinked again. This could be why, contrary to other demigods, he had never been attacked by monsters!

"Because your magic is fueling this protection, I can not teach you. Between 90 and 95 percent of your magic is locked away; at worst, you may be able to manage a simple illusion. At best, you may be able to pull off a short-range teleportation while under great duress and you desperately want to get away."

"I turned my teacher's hair blue once," Harry offered.

Circe smirked. "I'm sure she deserved it, considering it was accidental magic. That is my point, however. It will likely be the extent of your powers. Your protection has a time limit, it is set to expire when you turn eleven and are ready to begin your mortal magical schooling."

The young boy nodded, somewhat disappointedly.

"I will not mess with a masterpiece of the mystical arts such as this," Circe re-stated. "My mother, as Goddess of Magic, Choice, and the Crossroads, beholds choice above all else. The choice made by the caster of that enchantment would stop her from interfering. Likely that was the reason for her refusal," Circe said, turning to Hestia. "You would need a caster of my mother's ability to further modify that enchantment without destroying it. Whoever messed with it has made it incredibly fragile to further alteration. I could remove it, but an enchantment that beautiful should not be tampered with."

Hestia nodded sadly.

Circe turned back to Harry. "One thing is sure. That enchantment is eating your magic to sustain itself until the time limit expires. That means your magic is under continuous strain. By the time you reach 11, the resistance will have caused your magic to grow to levels that most mortals can only dream about."

The young boy just nodded. Circe gave a smirk. "At least it gets me out of teaching," she said, her smirk morphing into a grin. She snapped her fingers, and vanished.

"That was different," Harry offered.

Hestia nodded. "At least we know why I have had trouble finding you a magic teacher. If Hecate is refusing it, she will have told the other potential teachers to refuse as well."

"I'm not sure what to do now," Harry told her. "I mean – is it even possible to find someone else? And if you do find someone else, will they break that protection? I mean, I rather like not having to worry about monsters finding me."

The Goddess of the Home smiled slightly. "There are many more people on this world than you realize, Harry," she said. "Finding a different teacher should be possible, yes. Do remember, though, that your protection will end when you turn eleven, and need to start mortal magical training."

The young boy nodded. "Monsters will be able to find me, then."

"Yes, they will," Hestia confirmed. "By that time, though, I expect Artie, Ares, and Athena, to have trained you well enough that you will not need magic to defend yourself."

Harry nodded again, accepting that.

"I will continue to look for a magic teacher. Circe confirmed a few things, so I will need to look for a teacher of a god-level ability. Or better."

Harry blinked. "Better than the Goddess of Magic?" he wondered.

Hestia graced him with a gentle, yet mysterious, smile. "I should go, Harry. I have some business to attend to."

Harry watched her leave, confused, his mind awhirl with what he had just learned. From what Mister Hades had said, his parents had died a heroic death. From what Miss Circe had said, his mother had likely enchanted him with protection – an enchantment that cost her her life.

Suddenly, he was really grateful to Miss Circe. That enchantment was the last thing he had left of his mother.

Deciding on clearing his mind, he made his way back to the kitchen, read the recipe that Hestia had chosen as Artie's reward, and made a list of the ingredient he needed.

Deep in thought, he left the temple and went to the market. He went off autopilot only for buying the required chocolate – Belgian chocolate, with its high cocoa content, rather than the Swiss chocolate that was more milk and sugar than chocolate.

His thoughts switched back to the topic of magic as he made his way to the temple.

He had an enchantment from his mother, it required a deity-level magic user to alter it, and as long as nobody messed with it, it would be with him until he was 11. There wasn't anything he could do about it, so it was best to let the topic lie.

By the time he made it back to his kitchen, he was ready to begin baking.

And baking he did.

4 hours later, he smiled widely at the result. It looked magnificent, and if the taste-testing he did while cooking was any indication, it was going to taste as good as it looked.

Carefully covering up his cake, he made his way to the hearth, and waved his hand. It turned green as normal, but Harry didn't immediately walk through.

After all, this was one of the few times that he was going to visit the Hunter's camp without a prior invitation, and the last thing he wanted was for Artie to be upset with him. She was very protective of the Hunters, and Harry knew some men had done bad things to the Hunters in the past. Harry was sad about that – he liked most of the Hunters, they were cool.

"It's Harry," Harry told the fire. "Would it be okay if I came through? I have a gift for Artie."

The fire remained silent for a few moments. Then, a voice replied, "Come on through, Harry."

The boy smiled, and walked through the fire. Celyn, one of the Hunters, gave him a tiny smile. "My Lady is in her tent, Harry."

He grinned in reply. "Thanks, Miss Celyn!" he told her, and carried his precious cake to the tent he knew was Artie's.

Politely, he scratched at the entrance, requesting permission to enter. Suddenly, he felt rather nervous. What if Artie didn't like the cake? He'd never known Hestia to make a mistake when selecting a dish, but what if he had messed up baking it? His palms started to sweat.

The flap was pulled back by a surprised-looking Zoë. "Hi Miss Zoë," Harry greeted politely.

The Lieutenant of Artemis' Hunters nodded once. "Harry," she said, stepping back to allow him in. "I did not expect to see thee."

"Miss Celyn said it was okay to come through," Harry replied honestly, lifting up the heavy cake. "I made Artie something."

Zoë looked surprised, but hid it quickly. Harry entered the tent deeper, and found Artie sitting in her customary position, with one of her deer next to her, its head in her lap.

Harry smiled, feeling his nerves rise. "Hi Artie," he said, presenting his burden. "I... eh… I baked you something as a thank you. For helping me out, I mean."

Artemis looked surprised, just like Zoë. And, just like her Lieutenant, she hid it quickly. "Really?" she wondered, and at a subtle sign of the goddess, the deer stood up.

The Goddess of the Hunt came to her feet, and approached him.

Grinning nervously, Harry pulled back the cover, presenting the triple-layer chocolate cake he had made.

Artie blinked, and stared at the delicious-looking and delicious-smelling confection. Finally, she seemed to come back to herself, and swiped an arm at a table. "Put it over there," she said, already carrying a knife in the hand she was motioning with.

Harry nodded, and carefully put his precious burden on the indicated table. When he looked up, Artie was already carrying a plate in her spare hand, and was well under way to carving herself a slice.

Harry swallowed as she proceeded to carve a slice and move it to her plate, before a small fork materialized and the goddess deftly cut off a bite.

He wondered if she would like it – but then the bite disappeared between her lips.

The sound that came from the Goddess of the Hunt made him uncomfortable, which confused him, and it made Zoë gape. Artie, apparently realizing the sound she had made, blushed. Harry wasn't even ware that the Goddess of the Hunt _could_ blush.

"My Lady!" Zoë protested.

"You need to try this," Artie replied, and rapidly ate more cake. Harry felt his breath relax; that meant she liked it.

Zoë, suspicious, carved a smaller, thinner, slice of cake. She, too, tried it.

"This is delicious," she proclaimed, with the kind of determination one used to proclaim the color of the sky.

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks, Miss Zoë!"

"Indeed," Artie said, putting her plate down – completely empty. When had she finished that big piece?

"I'm glad you like it, Artie," Harry said, smiling. "I just wanted to thank you for helping me out with the hellhounds and stuff."

The Goddess of the Hunt eyed him. "If this is the reward I can expect for such a minor assistance, you should call upon me more often," she said, smiling, lifting her plate and eating a bite of a new slice of cake. When had she carved that? Harry looked at the cake – it was indeed missing another piece.

He ignored the fact that his second-favorite goddess could carve a cake quicker than the eye could see, and smiled at her. "I don't want to ask too often, though," he replied to her statement. "I don't want you growing tired of helping me, and I don't want to… you know… call you for little things."

"Thou doest not wish to take advantage," Zoë explained. "'T is good for thee to realize this."

Harry grinned at one of his favorite teachers. Artie nodded. "Indeed. Even if it limits our access to delicious cake."

Harry smiled shyly; he owed Hestia a really big hug as thank you for pointing him to the recipe. "I should go," he said, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed over the praise he was receiving.

"Very well," Artie said. "Thank you for the cake."

She was still eating, so he couldn't give her a thank-you hug. Instead, he just nodded. "You're welcome, Artie. Thanks for helping me."

The Goddess graced him with a smile, and Harry quickly took his leave. He didn't want to overstay his welcome, and he had done what he had come here to do.

He wondered about the sound Artie had first made, though. It had made him really uncomfortable, and Miss Zoë had been shocked by it. He wondered why that was.

He arrived back at Helios' temple, still thinking about it.

His thoughts were interrupted by more pounding on the doors of the temple. Frowning, Harry walked over to open them. He was really popular lately, and having people pound on the temple door was starting to get old.

He pulled one side of the double doors open.

And gulped.

"Hi Mister Ares," he greeted politely.

The God of war grinned bloodthirstily. "I heard you got into a scrap with a couple of hellhounds, and got out of it without injury, Brat."

Harry nodded apprehensively.

"Good!" the God of War laughed. "Let's have a fight!"

The boy sighed; this was going to be a long and painful day, he just knew it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 10**

The animated dummy raised its hands, then froze, waiting for its young opponent to make a move.

"What will it do?" Athena asked, as Harry stared at it.

The young demigod swallowed, staring at the dummy. "Ehm… throw a punch?" he asked.

Athena seemed amused. "Are you asking, or telling?"

Harry swallowed again. Athena was a harsh teacher; she was completely and utterly brilliant, but had the tendency to assume everyone else was as brilliant as she was. This usually resulted in her just giving the bare minimum of information and expecting him to be able to keep up.

Since he was just a mortal, this usually resulted in her staring at him in disappointment, which made him feel like an abject failure.

"Telling," he decided. "It's going to throw a punch."

Athena clasped her hands behind her back, and calmly walked to the dummy. "Explain your thought process."

Harry blinked, not having expected that. "ehm… it's raised its hands. And it's right hand is higher than its left, so I think that's what it's going to punch me with."

"And its legs?" the Goddess of Wisdom asked, crossing behind the dummy, before walking back towards him.

Harry looked down at its legs and feet. "They're firmly on the ground."

"Good," Athena said. "You are partially correct. Its next move is to punch with its right fist."

Harry looked at her with surprise. "Partially correct, Miss Athena?" he asked.

Athena seemed amused again. "Will it be a cross, a jab, or an uppercut? There are many different kinds of 'punches', after all."

Harry nodded, and looked at the dummy. "It's going to be a jab," he finally decided. "It's not lowering the fist for an uppercut."

Athena nodded. "Correct. Remembered to always be _thorough_ and _complete_. You may not always have the time to analyze and predict your opponent in full combat, but if you have an opening, you can win a fight before ever throwing a single punch."

She motioned, and the dummy changed its stance. "What will it do?"

Harry looked at the dummy.

00000

Athena's lesson had been a lengthy one. After playing 'predict the dummy', she had started staging rooms, asking him to determine what didn't fit. That had been fun – initially. Soon, the staged room went from having a clock with the wrong time to incredibly elaborate, including one case where Athena had expected him to be able to pick a single book that didn't belong out of a bookcase filled with them.

He'd failed that one. Athena had instructed him to keep up his reading least, while leveling her disappointed look at him.

After hours of drills and exercises like that, his brain felt like it had melted and would start dribbling out of his ears any moment.

He'd crossed the market, and had turned into the quieter, older, area of Olympus where Helios' Temple was located, when he was stopped by a stranger wearing a hood.

"Hi Mister H," Harry said, grinning at the cloaked figure.

"Hello Harry," the caped God of Thieves replied, sounding equally amused. "I've spoken to my pals about that study party I invited you to. We all managed to get some time on Friday evening, at 8 in the evening."

Harry nodded, despite finding it an odd time to have a math study group. "I'll be there, Mister H. How many people are coming?"

"It'll be you, me, and three of my friends, so just the five of us," Hermes explained. "Any particular reason why?"

Harry shrugged. "I thought I'd bake some muffins or something. You know, as a thanks to the others for letting me into your study group."

The God of Travelers seemed surprised, showing even while he was fully cloaked and hooded. "I'll be looking forward to them," he replied, ruffling Harry's notoriously stubborn hair. "See you on Friday!"

"See you on Friday, Mister H!" Harry answered with a grin as the god slinked away, once more hiding himself.

00000

It was Friday morning, and Harry was in Athena's Library, reading yet another book from the massive collection the Goddess of Wisdom had told him to learn from. His attention wandered; he was feeling a bit nervous about the study group Hermes would be leading that night. He really wasn't that good at math, despite doing his best at it, and if there would be four gods there, he was going to be far out of his depth.

He drew a breath, closed his eyes, and tried to relax. Letting his breath out, he really did feel better, and tried to focus on the book.

It was an interesting one, too, dealing with the forging of weapons. Now that his attention had shifted, he easily read on. The enchantment on the library turned all the characters to Greek Letters, despite being in English, and his dyslexia didn't act up once.

Two hours later, he closed the book, frowning slightly. He had a few questions regarding what he had just read, and he wondered if he should bother Athena with them.

Knowing how prickly the Goddess of Wisdom was, and how little she liked him, Harry decided against bothering her. His fingers drummed on the book's cover as he thought who he could turn to for help.

His instincts pinged him with a suggestion. He grinned. It was a good excuse to meet up with one of his favorite male gods – Hephaestus, God of the Forge.

Before he realized it, his legs had carried him out of the library, and well underway to Hephaestus' temple. As he walked, Harry wondered if he should actually bother the god; he was likely to be very busy, and Harry wanted to be on his good side.

He stopped at the temple doors, and raised his hand. He hesitated; Hephaestus would probably be very busy, and Harry's questions really were rather basic. Maybe the god would be upset if he bothered him for something so basic?

Then again, maybe he'd welcome the diversion?

He wondered back and forth for a few moments, before his instincts told him to rap on the door; apparently asking the Smith God right there and then would be a _good_ thing.

He knocked.

The door opened on its own.

"Hello? Mister Hephaestus?" Harry asked, sticking his head inside, but making sure his feet remained outside the threshold. Hestia had warned him not to enter a God's domain without invitation.

The muscular form of the God of the Forge was suddenly there. "Ah, Harry," he said, his voice gravelly. Harry ignored how the god limped forward. "Wasn't expecting visitors."

Harry smiled hopefully up at the bulky god. "Ehm…hi, Mister Hephaestus," the young boy said. "I… eh… are you busy?"

Hephaestus studied the boy for a few moments. "Well now, not often I get asked if I have time," he said. "Usually, it's more of a 'build this' or 'build that'." He grinned; it looked twisted on his scarred face, but Harry took that as a good sign.

"I just had a few questions, if you have time, Mister Hephaestus," Harry said, holding up the book for emphasis.

The Smith God looked down, and nodded at the title. "Interested in forging, are you?" he asked rhetorically, his grin widening. "I've got some time, you arrived at the right moment. I was working on something tricky that I finished just before you knocked."

Harry smiled, silently thanking his instincts for telling him to knock _then_ and not _earlier_. He held up the book again. "I was reading about making swords, and then it talked about metals," the boy explained. "I was wondering why swords – well, mortal swords – are still made from steel, and not something like titanium."

Hephaestus looked at Harry, seemingly amused. "You're making the same mistake that a lot of other people make, Harry," he said. "You're confusing 'strength' with 'hardness'."

The young boy blinked, and glanced at the book, resisting the urge to open it. "Titanium is stronger than steel for the same weight, yes. But, it is _softer_ than good steel that is tempered correctly. Titanium will not break, this is true. But it will _fold_. Your edge will be gone quickly. Your blade will bend. Titanium is also difficult to forge, requiring higher temperatures and difficult treatments to use correctly."

Harry nodded. "I didn't know that."

Hephaestus grinned. "Strength and Hardness," he repeated. "Don't listen to Hollywood."

The boy laughed, and was about to thank the Smith God for his help, when he felt his instinct urge him on. Before he had a chance to contemplate it, he felt his mouth move on its own accord. "How about Osmium? Is it the same thing?" he asked.

Hephaestus' grin didn't waver. "Full of questions, aren't we?" he asked, sounding amused. Suddenly, he grew serious. "Tell you what; I'm not much of a teacher. I prefer to let people find things out for themselves. You're likely to forget the answer about titanium, but if you find it out for yourself, you'll remember it for the rest of your life."

The god leaned over, so his massive face was very close to Harry. "I'll make you deal, young Harry," he said. "I need to inventory my scrapyard. Everybody just dumps their old junk in it, and I never know what's in it from one moment to the next. You do the inventory for me, and you'll have a very good grounding in the basics of metallurgy, engineering, weapons and armor forging, and a lot of other things. " He fell silent, and Harry was about to say something, when the god went on, "When you're done, I will let you keep one item; any item at all, as long as you, yourself, can carry it out. So don't go thinking you can drag out an automaton or something. I give you a warning, though – don't take anything out until I give you the go ahead. The entire thing's cursed to Olympus and back."

Harry was stunned, he didn't know what was in Hephaestus' junkyard, but he was sure to find something interesting. He was about to accept, when his gut feeling came back, pushing him to speak.

"What do I do to write up the inventory, Mister Hephaestus? I don't know a lot of engineering or forging or metals, so I don't know if I can do a good job at it," the boy replied, driven by his instincts. Inwardly, Harry agreed with what the mysterious instincts wanted him to do; he wanted to do a good job.

Hephaestus nodded. "That is a good question," he said, nodding. He reached out, and placed one of his huge, muscular, godly-form hands on Harry's head. Which, considering its size, could be described as 'around' Harry's head. "I'll grant you a bit of a boon."

Harry felt his brain heat up. It wasn't a painful heat, but it was definitely uncomfortable.

"There," Hephaestus said. "I gave you a talent for psychometry. If you focus on an object, you'll know all about it, how it was made, what it was made from, and so forth. It'll disappear in three days; any longer than that and your brain will melt. You don't have the natural ability, so your brain can't handle it. Use that skill, and do the inventory in my scrapyard. You'll know what to write down."

Harry nodded seriously. "Thanks, Mister Hephaestus."

Hephaestus grinned. "It's me who should thank you. That inventory is boring. It's worth the trade of a small item. Remember, three days. And don't carry anything out until I say so."

Harry nodded. Hephaestus grinned. "I need to get back to work." He vanished. Harry blinked.

"How am I supposed to get to the scrapyard?" he wondered to himself.

Hephaestus reappeared. "Knew I forgot something. I'll put up a fire; you can travel there using Aunt Hestia's skill." He vanished again.

Harry laughed. "Thanks, Mister Hephaestus." The Smith God did not reappear. Chuckling to himself, the young boy walked away; the doors of the temple closed by themselves. He needed to get back to Helios' temple, make himself some sandwiches, change into sturdy clothing that he didn't mind getting dirty, and then make his way to the scrapyard. He had a job to do.

00000

Harry arrived at the junkyard wearing old and sturdy clothes, and carrying his backpack. The fire he arrived from was an ever-burning brazier, located in a relatively clear area.

As far as Harry could see, there were mountains of scrap. Bronze horseheads, obviously broken, metal human legs, also broken, smashed chariots, shields. Swords. Washing machines. Computer monitors. Harry blinked, he had his work cut out for him.

He wandered the yard for an hour or two, taking stock of how big it was, and what the best way forward was. He wanted to do a good job for Hephaestus, and the first lesson Artie ever gave him was always a good place to start. _Taking stock_ of the situation would help him make a plan on how to best go about it.

He climbed various piles of trash, but most of them just allowed him a view on yet more piles of trash.

Eventually, however, he arrived at one edge of the junkyard, and found one hill, a mountain really, that was much higher than everything else. On one side, three-meter-tall toes were visible, and Harry wondered who had asked Hephaestus to make huge toes. Suddenly, the boon the God of the Forge had bestowed on him flared to life.

Harry suddenly _knew_ that this was a prototype of Talos, defective but still functional, set here as a guardian of the junkyard. It was dormant, and would remain so, unless or until someone took something from the junkyard.

The next moment, Harry knew the metals it was built from, how those metals had been forged, the engineering that went into its construction. He rubbed his forehead, realizing why Hephaestus had said it would only last three days. The amount of information that had just appeared in his skull was amazing and felt incredibly uncomfortable – like a headache that was just about to form.

Taking out his notebook, Harry wrote down the information on the Talos prototype, and realized that he did indeed know what to write down as information.

Knowing that it was inactive and would remain so until or unless he stole something from the yard, Harry climbed the small mountain that was the giant automaton. Along the way, he chuckled. The automaton was covered in rust and dust, and it appeared that Hephaestus had written in the grime, in giant letters, 'WASH ME'. For a moment, Harry had the distinct urge to actually wash the poor prototype, because such an amazing piece of engineering shouldn't be lying here, rusting and covered in dirt.

He shook it off; he was here for another job. He resumed climbing, still chuckling as he did so, and soon reached the top. From there, he could survey the entire junkyard, and he smiled.

Going to a clean page, he focused on the junkyard, then on the clean paper and the pen. His fingers, wrists, and arms tingled. He started sketching the outline of the junkyard, before realizing that _sketching was easy,_ then sketched the location of the various piles of refuse, included the brazier that was his entry point, before ending with the largest hill, which he dubbed 'Mount Talos' in his mind.

He put the pen away and looked at the page-size sketch of the junkyard. He was very good at sketching all of a sudden, and Harry realized that his focus on the page and the pen had allowed Hephaestus' boon to transfer drawing and sketching skills to his brain and his muscles.

The young boy grinned; the boon would make this task easier to handle, definitely.

From his position on Mount Talos, he numbered the large piles of junk. Once done with that, he focused on the first pile, skipped to an empty page, and started listing the items in it, including the materials, construction, and current status. The junkyard was huge, and he knew it would take him a long time to complete. He didn't mind, he was learning a lot.

Close to 4 hours later, the sun was low in the sky, and Harry realized that it was almost evening. He'd only finished three piles of junk, but they were the largest piles in the junkyard. He was going to grab some food, have a shower, bake some muffins, and arrive at Hermes' temple in time for the study group.

And tomorrow, he would come back, bright and early, and work all day. He definitely wanted to do the job, and do it properly. He walked back to the brazier, letting his eyes slide over the various object scattered haphazardly. He didn't want to focus enough to trigger the boon; Hephaestus' warning about the time limit, and the discomfort of the process, made him cautious.

As he walked, his eyes fell on a plushy lightning bolt. Frowning, Harry picked it up, wondering for a moment who had commissioned it, and why it was abandoned here in the junkyard. It was incredibly soft, and as he squeezed it, it made soothing rumbling noises, like a thunderstorm at a great distance.

Harry grinned, and put it to one side. He'd never had a plushy anything. Maybe he'd find something else, and maybe he wouldn't, but the plushy lightning bolt was going on the 'maybe' pile.

Harry continued his trek to the brazier, his eyes sliding over an electric guitar to looked like it was shaped after Apollo's lyre, a chopped up metal tree that still had golden birds in its branches, and so forth.

Finally, he made it back to the brazier, and took no time to transport back to Helios' Temple. He needed a shower, a change of clothes, and some hot food.

Half an hour later, he had showered, changed, and was puttering about in the kitchen, both to make himself dinner and do prep work for the muffins he wanted to take to the party.

"Hello, Harry," Hestia said, emerging from the living area.

Grinning, he spun around and gave his all-time favorite goddess a big hug. "Hi Hestia!"

She smiled at him in her usual fashion, then said, "You were not on Olympus for most of the day."

He nodded. "Mister Hephaestus gave me a job!" he said, excitedly.

"A… job?" Hestia questioned, as if the very concept was beyond her.

The boy nodded. "I went to ask him a few questions about metals and forging and such, and he offered me a job! I have to inventory the junkyard, list what's there and stuff. And when I'm done I get to keep an item, as long as I can carry it!"

Hestia didn't look all that happy. "I see," she said.

Harry, busy with his food and his muffins, didn't notice. "He even gave me a bit of a boon to help out! I mean, I told him that I'd be happy to help, but that I didn't know what he'd find useful, you know? So he gave me psycho… psy… an ability that lets me read things; if I focus enough, I just _know_ what's it's made off, and how it's made. It's great!"

"Psychometry?" Hestia asked, her voice flat.

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "That's the one! He said I couldn't keep it, though. It would wear off after three days because I didn't have the ability by myself, so it would melt my brain."

"I see," Hestia said, again, her tone sounding slightly relieved. "So Hephaestus foisted off his own work on you, and gave you a minor boon and the promise of a single item in return?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't mind, I like helping people. And Mister Hephaestus is nice."

"I'll need to have a small talk with him," Hestia muttered quietly, but obviously not quietly enough.

"I don't mind helping, Hestia," Harry repeated. "It's okay, really."

She smiled at him. "You're a very kind boy, Harry. I just want to make sure nobody is taking advantage of you."

"He's not," Harry said, pouting. "Mister Hephaestus just needed some help, and he even gave me a boon so I could help him. Besides, it's fun, I learnt a lot already – even if I think it'll take me all three days to finish."

Hestia decided on changing the subject. "Baking muffins, Harry?" she asked, looking at the ingredients and the prep-work the boy was doing.

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Mister Hermes invited me, so I thought I'd bring some muffins as a thank you."

The goddess in childlike form graced him with a wide smile. "I'm sure they will go over very well. I've received quite a few compliments on your cooking skills from Artie."

Harry grinned at her. "You should have seen Artie's reaction to the chocolate cake. Miss Zoë was shocked."

Hestia laughed softly. "My niece loves chocolate too much sometimes."

Harry just grinned. He loved it when people liked the food he made.

00000

That night, precisely at eight pm, Harry knocked on the door to Hermes' Temple. Balanced on one arm was a large tray of muffins, covered by a sealed lid to keep the contents fresh.

"Harry!" the jovial Messenger God greeted him. He was in his mortal form, so he didn't tower above Harry like usual. "Come in, come in," he said, waving Harry into his temple. It was constructed vaguely like Helios' Temple, with a large statue of Hermes in the front, as well as an altar.

Hermes didn't give Harry a lot of time to look around, and instead waved him further inside. They arrived in a medium-sized room that was richly furnished with a bar on one side, complete with high stools. In the center of the room was a circular table that held five chairs.

Harry didn't see any kind of writing materials, nor a blackboard, so he wondered for a few moments how they were going to do math in here – maybe it was to be a completely verbal thing?

He put his tray of muffins down on the bar, and removed the lid.

"When will the others get here, Mister Hermes?" Harry asked.

Hermes made a show of checking his watch. "They should have been here, but you know us gods; we're always late."

"I resent that remark," a man's voice said, just as the man in question appeared. He was tall, had black hair, and had a necklace on that held a conch shell.

"Triton!" Hermes greeted enthusiastically.

"Yes, hello, Hermes," Triton said, focusing on Harry instead. "I assume this is him?" he asked.

Hermes nodded. "Yup. Harry, meet Triton, Messenger of the Seas."

Harry smiled and held out his hand. "Hi Mister Triton. Nice to meet you."

The lesser Sea God was silent for a few moments, then shook the offered hand. "Hello, Harry. My father speaks highly of you. It is good to finally meet you," he said.

"Your father?" Harry asked.

Triton seemed amused. "Lord Poseidon, Earthshaker, Father of Horses, God of the Seas."

Harry's smile widened. "Really? That's awesome! Mister Poseidon's great!"

The Messenger of the Seas' amusement grew. "Interesting. A being of the land who's respectful towards us of the sea, yet utterly without fear. How… unusual." He finished the latter with a look towards Hermes.

"Come on, Triton! That was just a joke, and you know it," Hermes complained. Harry had the distinct impression the two were really good friends, and were just having an argument for the heck of it.

"Arguing already?" A deep, bassy, voice asked. Harry looked over at the new arrival. At first, the boy assumed the new God had an exceptionally short godly form, before realizing that he had an extremely tall _mortal_ form. Tall, muscular, with waving blond hair that had been thrown into a haphazard sort of pony tail.

The new god's intensely blue eyes shone with amusement, however, and Harry found himself liking him before he even knew who it was.

"No," Hermes and Triton replied at the same time, before throwing a look at each other and laughing about it.

"And I see the mortal you invited has arrived as well," the newcomer said, looking at Harry. The boy grinned at the new god, who grinned back. "And fearless, too."

"Yes, this is Harry," Hermes replied with a nod, before turning to Harry. "Harry, meet Thor, Norse God of Thunder."

Harry blinked, looked at Hermes, looked at Thor, and back to Hermes.

"I think you broke him," Thor said, with genuine amusement.

"Just surprised, Mister Thor," Harry replied, stepping up to the god in question and holding out how hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Respectful, but still not afraid." Thor clasped the boy's small hand in his own huge one, and made sure not to crush it. "I like him already. Good to meet you too, Harry."

"Thanks, Mister Thor!" Harry chirped.

"Just 'Thor' will do," the Norse God replied. "Tell me, Harry, did you really fight to the death to save the damsel of your Goddess of Wisdom?"

Harry looked surprised for a moment, then glanced at Hermes, who obviously had been telling tales. He turned back to the Norse God, ignorant of the fact that Triton had taken a step closer and was listening in.

"I wanted to take Annabeth to camp," Harry said. "And then this guy came and wanted to do _bad things_ to her. He wouldn't stop, so I jumped him, but he beat me up really badly. And then I jumped him again, and he kicked me real hard and broke my ribs."

Harry looked down, and rubbed his arms, as if he felt cold. "So I jumped him again, and remembered my knife, and jammed it through his throat."

Thor gently raised the boy's face with one huge finger underneath his chin. "You fought valiantly against a foe and emerged victorious. There is no shame in that."

Harry gave a small smile. "I know, Mi… er… Thor. It's just… I don't like killing."

Thor nodded. "That's understandable. Taking life should not be easy. It is, however, sometimes necessary."

"Well now, isn't this an interesting development?" an accented voice said, from a corner of the room. "I appear, and am treated to a story of bravery and bloodshed."

Harry looked at the newest arrival. He looked Asian, in his mid-thirties, with a mop of pure white hair and thick white sideburns. He was tall, and muscular, but not as tall as Thor was. As he moved from the corner, he moved with a cat-like grace that was patently inhuman.

"Bai Hu," Hermes said. "Meet Harry. Harry, meet Bai Hu, the White Tiger, the Western Wind of the Chinese pantheon."

Harry grinned, and held out his hand. "Hi, Mister Bai Hu. Nice to meet you."

Bai Hu grinned, keeping his arms folded theatrically. "You're supposed to bow, Kid. We don't shake hands in the East."

"Bai!" Hermes scolded.

The Eastern God shrugged. "The sooner the kid learns, the sooner he won't offend anybody. I don't care, but others do."

Harry put his hand down. "Sorry," he said, bowing stiffly. "Like this?"

"Meh, it could do with some work," the White Tiger said, grinning. "But good enough for me, Kid. A few more times, and you'll have it down."

"Thanks, Mister Hu!" Harry said, grinning back at the god.

Bai Hu burst out laughing again. Before Hermes could scold him again, he said, "If you want to be formal, Kid, you're supposed to say 'Mister Bai'. Family name first in the East."

"So it's 'Mister Bai', because otherwise I'm calling you by your first name, right?" Harry asked, blushing faintly at making yet another faux-pas.

"Normally, 'Lord Bai', Kid," Bai Hu said. "But really, I'm not that into the whole bowing and scraping thing, so 'Mister' is fine. Or just call me 'Bai', like most do."

Harry smiled wider, happy the new god he'd been introduced to wasn't mad at him. "Thanks, Bai," he said, used to calling a god by their name after Thor earlier.

Bai Hu grinned, and ruffled Harry's hair. "You're welcome, Kid."

By now, the Eastern god had maneuvered himself to the bar, gotten himself a drink, and threw an entire cupcake into his mouth in one go.

"Shall we?" Triton asked, motioning for the table. "And perhaps Hermes' guest can start us off."

Harry blinked at being put on the spot. "Ehm… I'm not real good at math, Mister Triton," he confessed.

The Messenger of the Seas looked stunned, while Bai Hu and Thor burst out laughing, and Hermes facepalmed.

"Hermes, what have you been telling the lad?" Triton demanded, looking at their host. The Messenger God looked surprised at being the one that was yelled at, and didn't reply.

Not giving the god a chance to recover, Triton looked gently at Harry. "What did Hermes tell you about our little gathering, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "He said it was a study group. Studying something about… probability, I think he said."

Triton was the one to facepalm, and Bai Hu and Thor burst out in renewed laughter. The Messenger of the Seas sighed deeply. "Harry, did Hermes called it 'nondeterministic probability'?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically, still completely lost about what was happening, why Thor and Bai were laughing, and why Hermes seemed to be embarrassed. "That was it, Mister Triton!"

"Harry," Triton said, "What we do is play poker. Or mahjong. Or a number of other games of chance. And sometimes, we have a bit of a wager on the outcome."

Thor laughed loudly. "More than just a bit of a wager, Triton!"

"Gambling!" Harry said, smiling. "You're gambling!"

Triton looked a tad embarrassed himself, as 'gambling' had a bad feel to it. Before he could reply, the young boy went on, "That's awesome! Can I join?"

Thor laughed again, as did Bai. Hermes walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "That's why you're here, Harry. I thought we could teach you some things. And don't worry about money – for tonight, I'm sponsoring you."

Harry grinned. "That's even more awesome! Gambling with other people's money! Thanks, Mister Hermes."

Hermes' smile turned brittle. "I think Aunt Hestia is going to be very upset with me," he muttered quietly.

Harry smiled at him. "Hestia's the kindest, sweetest, gentlest goddess ever, Mister Hermes."

The Messenger God smiled faintly. "Then hope you never upset her, Harry."

The young boy gave Hermes a strange look, but decided not to go further into it. Hestia was too kind and sweet to ever be 'upset' with anyone.

The four gods took seat around the table, and Hermes invited the boy to sit right next to him, so he could explain the game.

Harry had heard about poker, but he only had the most rudimentary understanding of it, so he paid close attention as Hermes explained the game. The other three didn't seem upset at playing a few 'practice' games, where Hermes could explain out-loud what was happening.

Then, the money came into it. Hermes and Triton pulled out a pile of gold drachmas, Thor had a stack of generic gold coins, while Bai seemed content to simply sit there with a stack of gold bullion.

They played normally for a few games, with Harry watching as the gold shifted hands. When he felt like the god could do better, he resisted the urge to ask Hermes questions, not wanting to spoil the god's cards.

Finally, Hermes asked him if he felt like playing himself. Harry grinned, and nodded enthusiastically. Once again, the others agreed to a few 'practice' games, and Hermes set a stack of drachmas in front of him.

He played a few rounds, getting a feel for the game, before game explanations died down again, and only casual conversation filled the room.

Suddenly, Harry's instincts flared to life, and it was as if his body was doing things on its own; rather like how he had engaged Hephaestus in conversation and ended up with a job.

000

"So there I was, alone on a hill, surrounded by enemies as far as the eye could see," Thor said.

"Then what happened?" Harry asked breathlessly.

"I died, of course," Thor said with a huge laugh, taking the other gods and Harry with him. "Two pair." He set his cards down. Hermes, Bai, and Triton grumbled.

"Straight," Harry said, interrupting the Norse God who had been about to sweep the pot. The four gods grumbled good-naturedly.

000

"I fold," Harry said, putting his cards face down. All he'd gotten was a hand of nothing, and he felt like there wasn't anything more in the cards, pun fully intended. Instead, he went on with his story. "So Thalia and Luke were fighting a pair of Hellhounds, and I found out mortal arrows did nothing against monsters. So I shot one of the Hounds in the eye."

"You shot a Hellhound in the eye in the midst of combat?" Thor asked, sounding impressed. Sure, they'd heard the gist of it from Hermes, but the details were missing.

Harry looked a bit embarrassed. "I think it was more luck than anything."

"Luck or not," Triton said, "That was a great shot for a mortal."

"Thanks, Mister Triton," Harry muttered, still a bit self-conscious. "It only pissed it off, though. So, I prayed to Artie for help, the Hunt being her domain and all. I got lucky, she was in a good mood and enchanted a couple of my arrows. My first arrow shot the brains out the Hellhound fighting Thalia, and the second one nearly took the head off the one fighting Luke."

Bai laughed. "For one so young, you have a few good stories already, kid," he said. "Full House." The other gods paid up.

000

"Imagine my horror when my Father came upon me, still dressed in my mother's robes after losing that bet." Triton said. The others laughed, which gave Harry the confidence to laugh, too. Some gods could be testy about mortal laughing at them, but Triton seemed okay with it. Especially after telling the embarrassing story himself. "He took a long look at me, then said 'I do not believe those suit you, son.' I was mortified." The others laughed again.

Harry knew he liked Mister Poseidon for a reason, he seemed laid-back now, contrary to the stories he read in the history books Hestia had gotten for him from Athena's library.

"Oh, and Three of a Kind," Triton added, putting his cards on the table.

The other gods grumbled. "Sorry, Mister Triton," Harry said, drawing the attention of the four gods. "Straight." He swept the pot, and deftly stacked his loot.

Suddenly his stack of gold held a rather nice collection of drachmas, coins, and bullion.

"Careful, guys. We have a budding card shark," Hermes teased.

Thor and Bai laughed, and Harry found he liked the foreign gods even more. They seemed rather laid-back and enjoyed a good laugh. Triton had an amused look on his face, which released some of the tension Harry was feeling over winning.

000

The game continued, with Harry raising, folding, playing, and above all… winning. After a few hours of money shifting hands, it was becoming obvious that Harry was winning for more than he lost.

"Bah," Bai said, throwing his cards down, and eyeing the measly stack of bullion in front of him. "Your guest is cleaning us out, Hermes."

Harry opened his mouth to apologize, feeling bad for his unusual string of good luck, when Thor spoke up. "Don't make the lad feel bad for your misfortune, Bai," he told the Oriental god. "Rather, work on your game instead."

Bai crossed his arms, and pouted like a small child. It was so over-the-top that Harry couldn't help but know that he was teasing. The boy stifled his laugh, and noticed Bai giving him a surreptitious wink, showing no hard feelings.

"Don't worry, Harry. There are no hard feelings at this table," Hermes said, unknowingly confirming Harry's thoughts. "We've all been playing long enough."

Harry smiled faintly at him.

"How about we play some mahjong instead?" Bai Hu suggested. "Cards are for wimps. Real men play with tiles."

"I am inviting Hera to the next game," Hermes replied.

Bai Hu paled. "She'd turn me into a tiger-skin rug in front of her fire."

Hermes grinned. "Then stop being a sexist pig."

Bai Hu grumbled, before saying, "So? How about it? Mahjong, anyone?"

"It takes exactly four to play Mahjong," Triton said. "Plus, it's not a game you pick up in one setting."

"I wouldn't mind learning, Mister Triton," Harry said.

"Still, it wouldn't be fair," Thor stated calmly, before grinning. "Since Bai wants to play his Eastern game so badly, why don't you have a seat with me, young Harry, and we'll play a few rounds together. Let's see how much you still want to play after you see what it is."

Harry grinned. "Sure!" he chirped enthusiastically, scooting his chair over next to the Norse god.

"Looks like it's decided, then," Hermes said, waving his hand. The circular table changed into a square one, and each of them were seated at one side of it. The Messenger of the Gods got up, and retrieved a set of mahjong tiles, dumping them on the table.

As the tiles were shuffled, Thor explained the basics of the game, and Harry got it quite quickly. The object was to form certain sets of tiles – called 'hands' - which consisted out of a combination of 14 tiles. The player always had 13 tiles in front of them, so you could only win by either drawing the 14th tile on your turn, or when one of the other players discarded a tile that you needed to make your combination.

Of course, the better the combination, the more points it was worth. Kind of like poker, Harry thought.

The gods played a few rounds, and Harry really had to focus to keep up. The pace of the game was fast, but thankfully Thor always stopped when it was his turn, to explain some of the concepts to him.

After four rounds, where they had all been the 'dealer' once, and Bai won most of the time, Thor started asking Harry what _he_ would do.

Harry immediately pointed to a discarded tile. "I'd pick that one," he said.

Thor looked surprised at the choice, but decided to humor him. "Then discard that one," Harry said, pointing to a tile in Thor's collection.

The Norse God of Thunder smiled at how Harry had no trouble with essentially giving him orders, and discarded the indicated tile. Play resumed, and when it was their next turn, Harry told Thor to pick a tile from the wall, before indicating which tile to be discarded.

Thor sat up straight when he noticed the hand come together. The next round, Harry pointed to the wall again.

"Mahjong," the boy declared, turning the tiles around.

"Well I'll be," Triton said.

"Well done, Harry. Someone had to stop the Tiger's run."

Bai crossed his arms. "No mercy at all. First with cards, now with tiles. No mercy at all!"

Harry grinned, by now recognizing that the Eastern God was playing.

Thor stood up. "Here, you play," he told Harry. "I'm getting a drink, then I'm going to watch you annihilate these guys."

Harry laughed softly, thinking the god was making a joke. The looks on the faces of the other three gods indicated that it may not have been, and Harry felt a slight bit of unease creep up on him.

The dealer shifted to the next player, and they played another round in relative silence. Thor sat down next to Harry, a large mug of ale in one hand, and shoved a glass of coca cola in Harry's direction.

"Thanks, Thor!" Harry said, grinning.

"Winning's thirsty work," the Norse God replied with a straight face. "And I want to see the Tiger's lamentations."

"No respect," Bai complained jokingly. He playfully shook his fist in Thor's direction. "I should pound that disrespect out of you!"

Thor laughed loudly. "Hera isn't the only one who could use a tiger skin rug in front of the fire," he joked back.

Bai Hu, the White Tiger, flinched playfully.

"Mahjong," Harry declared, turning his tiles over.

"That kid has the luck of the gods," Bai said, smiling while shaking his head, and they all paid out.

The dealer shifted, and the next round began. "Thor?" Harry asked, as the round was well under way. Once again, it was as if his instincts were driving him, as if he were taking a backseat in his own body. Last time, it had earnd him a job from Hephaestus; he wondered what it would lead to now.

"Yes, Harry?" the huge Viking God asked, gently.

"You're really good at fighting, right?" the young boy asked.

Thor laughed again. "I do alright," he said, playfully modest.

"Do you think you could give me a few lessons?" Harry asked, softly.

Thor looked surprised. "Hermes said that your God of War and your Goddess of Wisdom were training you?" he said, asking for confirmation.

"Mister Ares just tells me to fight him, but he never tells me anything, so it's him pounding me into the dirt. I've learned to dodge a lot, but I do'nt think that helps in a fight. And Miss Athena just plays 'predict the dummy' with me; she says I should be able to think my way out of a fight."

"Which again, isn't that helpful," Thor said, nodding while rubbing his chin. "I would need to consult with others," he told Harry in answer to his original question. "I would love to give you a few pointers, but we must keep in mind that normally, pantheons don't interfere with each other. Me training you could be considered an insult to Ares and Athena, which could lead to problems."

Harry nodded. "I understand," he said.

Bai grinned. "Here's something that might help," he said, pulling an old Chinese book out of a pocket that definitely wasn't big enough to hold it. "I'm not supposed to have this," he added with a grin.

Harry looked interested. "What book is it, Bai?" he asked, trying to catch a glimpse of the title.

"It's a book on Martial Arts, written by my best friend, Xuan Wu, Emperor of the Northern Heavens in the East, God of the Martial Arts," Bai Hu explained. "It's really good at getting people up to a decent amount of skill – it's not equivalent to a teacher by any means, but it should get you started. I use it to train my Horsemen."

"Cool," Harry breathed.

Bai grinned. "And I'll put it up in this round instead of money. So if you want it, you'd better win."

Harry laughed. "Are we betting favors? In that case, instead of money, If I lose, I'll make a dessert of the winner's choice."

Bai eyed the boy. "I don't know," he muttered, obviously not impressed.

"Did you like the cupcakes earlier, Bai?" Hermes asked.

"Sure, they were great," Bai replied, looking at Hermes. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Thanks, bai!" Harry chirped. "I made them myself."

"You made those?" the White Tiger asked, staring hard at Harry.

"Yup, Hestia taught me. I love cooking and baking," he replied, honestly.

"I'll accept that deal," Bai said, having made his decision. "I'll put up the book. You put up a dessert of choice."

"Since we're betting favors," Hermes said. "Two free deliveries."

Triton smiled, and shook his head. He snapped his fingers, and a twisted conch shell appeared on the table. "It's a one-time-use conch shell, it will quell any storm at sea when blown. Once," he repeated.

The other gods looked appreciative, and Harry was grinning widely. He wasn't sure if his cooking was on the same level as a book written by the God of Martial Arts, or a shell that could stop a sea storm, but he thought it stacked up well with Hermes' favor of two free deliveries.

"Now I wish I could play," Thor joked playfully. Harry looked aghast at having stopped the Norse God from playing, and was almost completely out of his chair when said god clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to push him back down. "It was just a joke, young Harry."

"Oh," Harry muttered. "Sorry." he looked at Thor. "If you want to play, though..."

"I have lived for many years and have played this game many times before," the Norse God said, jovially. "Play on. And make sure I can feast on the lamentations of the White Tiger when he loses his book."

Harry smiled crookedly, while Bai Hu complained about the lack of respect, then gave Harry a wink.

The mortal boy grit his teeth; he really wanted that book. _Instincts, don't fail me now,_ he pleaded silently.

His hand seemed to move on its own accord, and drew a tile out of the pool, immediately discarding one from his hand. Thor laughed. "The kid knows what he's doing," he said with a grin.

It took three more turns.

"Mahjong," Harry said, relieved, turning his hand over.

"The kid beat us AGAIN!?" Bai Hu said, shaking his head.

"Tyche smiles upon him tonight," Hermes said, trying, and failing, to sound philosophical. "Seriously, Harry, you have the devil's own luck."

Harry grinned as he raked in his loot – Triton's conch, Hermes's promissory note, and the book on Martial Arts.

Excited, harry opened his new book's heavy leather cover. His first thought was disappointment on it all being written in Chinese.

His second thought was about the entirety of the Chinese written language had just forced its way into his brain by the way of his eyeballs.

He grunted as his vision blurred, and a massive headache exploded behind his eyes.

"Harry?" Hermes asked, concerned. Conversation stopped.

"I know Chinese," Harry said in wonder.

"What?" the Messenger God asked, surprised. "Harry? You alright?" he repeated when he saw his young guest wasn't responding.

Harry blinked, and looked at Hermes. "I'm fine, Mister Hermes. Just a huge headache. And I know Chinese now."

Hermes frowned, and looked at the book. He sighed in disappointment. "Oh, Bai. You didn't."

"Didn't what?" Bai asked, sounding innocent. "Put up a Chinese book? Yup, I did. I thought I'd teach the kid that sometimes, gods don't play fair."

"I know Chinese," Harry repeated. "I learned it just now, from looking at the book." He flipped to the next page, and grunted again. "And now I now Yin style Tai Chi." He shook his arms and legs. "That hurts."

Hermes and triton looked concerned, while Thor had a thoughtful look focused on Harry. Bai Hu looked completely surprised.

"Harry," Hermes said. "How is that possible?"

The boy flipped to the next page. "Yang style tai Chi," he said, before looking up at Hermes, shaking his arms and legs again, as if they were stiff from training. "I think it's Mister Hephaestus' boon, Mister Hermes."

Hermes closed the book, ignoring the disappointed sound coming from Harry's throat. "You may want to explain first, Harry," he said. "What boon?"

"This morning, I had some questions for Mister Hephaestus, regarding metals used in swords. He said he wasn't much of a teacher and preferred people to find things out on their own; so he gave me a job. He asked me to do the inventory of his junkyard, and gave me a boon so I could do it well. It's called psycho… psychomet..."

"Psychometry," Hermes stated, levelly. Triton's look of concern increased. Thor was starting to grin, while Bai Hu thumped his head on the table.

"That it, Mister Hermes!" Harry said. "When I look at things, I just _know_ what they're made out of, and how they were built. I think that's what's happening with the book. I didn't know Chinese, so the boon taught me Chinese. It's really complex, and lots of history in each character. It hurt."

"No doubt," Hermes said. "Listen, Harry. Did Hephaestus warn you about it? Did he say it was dangerous?"

Harry nodded slowly. "He said it would disappear after three days, because I don't have a natural gift for it so it could melt my brain. I thought he was kidding."

The Messenger God pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he was the one with the headache. Now that Harry thought about it, his own headache had cleared. "Dammit, Heph," Hermes muttered. "Harry, Hephaestus wasn't exaggerating. That skill is _dangerous_. I doubt I could stop you from reading that book on Martial Arts, but promise me that you will not read any more books after that. Not until that skill has expired."

Harry nodded agreeably. "Okay, Mister Hermes."

The God of Messengers suddenly looked deadly serious, and leaned closer to look Harry deep in the eyes – at close range. "_Promise me_," he repeated commandingly.

The young boy swallowed, the usually friendly Messenger God looked incredibly scary all of a sudden. "I promise, Mister Hermes."

Hermes stared at Harry for a few more seconds, causing cold fear-sweat to break out on his brow, before nodding. "Good, then we need not talk about this further. But know this," he stated, coolly, staring at Harry again. "If your brain dribbles out of your ears, I will come down to the underworld myself to tell you that 'I told you so'."

The god grinned, and Harry let out his breath.

Bai was still pounding his head on the table. "You try and teach a kid a lesson, and end up being taught a lesson instead," the White Tiger muttered.

"What's gotten into him?" Hermes asked Thor and-or Triton.

"I think he's upset over the fact that he wanted to teach Harry not to make assumptions, only to fall into the same trap," Thor replied. "He assumed Harry wouldn't be able to do anything with the book, only to be shown otherwise."

"It was just a stroke of luck that I had Mister Hephaestus' boon, though," Harry said, still somewhat quietly. Hermes had been _intense_.

"Forgot smiling on you tonight, Tyche must have blessed you," Hermes told Harry. Suddenly, he grinned. "I should invite her to the next game."

Triton laughed. "We'd never win a single hand. At least the kid folded every now and then," he said, shaking his head.

"But it'd be worth it," Thor added. "Let us see how your goddess of fortune fares against young Harry."

"Xuan Wu will kill me if he ever finds out," Bai Hu muttered, forehead still on the table.

"Ignore him," Hermes said as Harry looked worriedly at the Eastern god. "He'll be fine. He's just being theatrical. And melodramatic."

Bai Hu muttered something quietly, but remained silent.

"So, Harry, how about it? Are you joining us next time, and shall I invite the Goddess of Fortune and Misfortune?"

Harry nodded. "I had a lot of fun, and I always like to meet new people," he said. His fingers split the stack of gold he had in front of him into four piles. "I should give this back to you, though. Hermes leant me the money, and I had a lot of luck."

Bai Hu looked up from his position, and shared a look with the other three. "Meh, keep mine, kid," the Eastern God said. "My element is metal. I can create as much gold as I like, so it's worthless to me anyway."

Hermes grinned. "Keep mine, too, Harry. I'm rich enough to afford it."

"Same here," Triton said, while Thor just nodded. "Gold doesn't have the same value to us gods that it does to you, so we may as well have been playing for regular poker chips."

Harry smiled widely. "Really? That's great! You guys are awesome!"

"I know," Hermes said, pushing out his chest.

Bai chortled quietly, then turned to Harry. "To come back to the book, Harry," he said. "Even with that boon, don't expect tot become a master of the martial arts after reading it. It's focused purely on the basic and intermediary skills, not the master-level skills. It'll give you a very good grounding, and even teach you most of the advanced skills, but it won't make you a master, so don't become complacent or overly confident in your skills."

Harry nodded. "I will. Thanks, Bai."

The Eastern God shook his head. "I still can't believe I fell into that trap, though," he said with a carefree grin while standing up. "I should get going. Next month sometime?" he asked the others.

They all nodded, and Hermes said, "I'll arrange it, depending on our schedules. Any volunteers to host?"

"Meh, I'll do it," Bai said. "That way, we can show the kid the Western Palace."

"I'll bring more cupcakes," Harry promised.

"Deal!" Bai said, grinning. He waved at the others. "Bye, guys." He vanished.

"I guess that's that," Triton said, standing up. "I'm looking forward to next time," he added with a grin, before vanishing.

Thor just waved from his seat. "Time for me to go clobber something. See you." he didn't even bother to stand up, and vanished.

"I like them, they're funny," Harry told Hermes. "Thanks for inviting me, Mister Hermes. It was fun."

"Glad you thought so, Harry," the jovial Messenger God said, smiling. "I think you should had back, though. If I know Aunt Hestia, she'll likely worry about you being out late."

Harry grinned. "Very true, Mister Hermes." He stood up, and held out his hand. "Thanks again for inviting me."

Hermes grinned, and shook the boy's hand. "Once again, you're welcome, Harry. Come on, I'll walk you out."

Harry could hardly contain himself until he reached Helios' Temple. Waving a hello to the giant statue of the Titan-God, Harry raced inside, plunking the book on the table, and opening it.

After flipping to a page he hadn't 'seen' yet, he grunted again as more knowledge pushed its way into his brain. A headache followed soon after, and Harry sat there, with eyes closed, waiting for it to subside.

The moment it did, the boy took a deep breath, braced himself, and flipped to the next page. He managed to suppress the grunt, which he took as a success, then closed his eyes and waited for the headache to expire.

He didn't know how long he was at it, but he jumped in surprise when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry?" Hestia asked, concerned.

"Hi Hestia," Harry replied, suddenly feeling bone-weary, and barely managing a smile for his favorite goddess.

"You look ill," she said. "What happened at Hermes' party?"

"It was fun," he answered, barely managing any enthusiasm at all. "I met Mister Triton, and Thor and Bai from the Norse and Chinese pantheons. They're cool. And Bai lost this book to me."

Hestia glanced at it, and frowned when she noticed the dense Chinese script, with small human figures in various poses interspersed between the writing.

"Mister Hephaestus' boon taught me Chinese, and it's now teaching me the martial arts in the book," he young boy explained. "I get a headache after each page, though, soI wait for the headache to clear before going to the next page."

Hestia's concern increased. "I think you've had enough for the night, Harry. it's close to four in the morning. You need to get some rest." She glanced back at the book. "And perhaps you shouldn't read more of this until Hephaestus' boon expires."

"But Hestia!"

Hestia looked at him. "You could hurt yourself," she stated.

Harry grabbed the book and cradled it. "But it's teaching me Martial Arts!"

The Goddess of the Home and the Hearth sighed. "I do not like this, Harry," she said.

Harry squeezed the book tighter. The young-looking goddess sighed again. "Fine," she said. "Please don't hurt yourself. And now, off to bed."

Harry nodded, racing off to the sleeping area, still cradling the book. Hestia gave him ten minutes, then checked it on him. He was deep asleep, the Chinese book resting on his nightstand. For a moment, she considered simply taking the book, but then, eventually, decided against it. It _was_ his property, and he would never trust her again if she simply took it against his wishes.

She leaned over, and tugged the covers over him. "Sleep well, Harry," she whispered, then vanished. Even if it was four in the morning, she felt the urge to have a small chat with the God of the Forge.


	11. Chapter 11

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 11**

Harry closed the book, then closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Today was the third day of his job for Hephaestus, the last day he had the boon he had been given, and he wanted to finish that book on Martial Arts before it was too late.

Yesterday, the second day of his task, had been brutal. He'd slept four or five hours, maybe, and had gotten up with a massive headache, feeling exhausted still.

He'd remembered how adults liked coffee to wake up in the morning, so he'd gone out and bought a cup before going to the junkyard. The coffee had tasted pleasantly enough, but it had made him jittery. And he'd forgotten his lunch.

The headache had lasted him all day, but Harry had grit his teeth and worked through it. he'd made a deal with Hephaestus, and he was going to stick to his end of it.

Despite the headache, he'd managed to make good progress, and he was pleased with the work he'd done when he returned to the temple when the sun started to dip.

After dinner, he'd read some more in the book, but it had only made his headache worse, and he'd turned in when it was barely eight thirty.

He slept through the night, but woke up early, feeling fresh. The sun was not yet up, and Harry had walked out the back of the temple, carrying the book with him, and settled in to read under the light of a brazier.

Each page burned as he read it, but as always, he grit his teeth and stuck with it. He knew Hermes had warned him. He knew Hestia had warned him, too. He just wanted to finish the book before the boon ran out.

The headache was subsiding slightly, but it did not disappear entirely. Something wet tickled his nose, and he wiped absentmindedly.

He blinked when he noticed it was red. Using his handkerchief, he wiped his nose again – more red. He felt a surge of ice cold adrenaline burn in his veins as he remembered the warning about his brain melting.

Thankfully, his nosebleed seemed to have stopped already, and he breathed deeply to relax. Maybe he had pushed it a bit far.

Warmth caressed his face, and Harry's introspection shifted to the first rays of the rising sun. Clearing his mind, he watched the sun rise. The warmth and the light seemed to seep into him, and Harry hummed when his headache settled into a dull throbbing sensation.

"Hi Mister Apollo, good morning," he said to the friendly God of the Sun, before grunting and standing up.

He blinked; was it his imagination or did the sun _wink_ at him? He stared some more, but it didn't repeat. With Apollo, one never knew, but Harry finally decided it must have been his imagination.

He turned to walk inside, when he stopped. Maybe he should see if he actually learned anything? He had the knowledge, he could recall what he had read with perfect accuracy. But did he actually have the skills described?

Putting the book on a table, he stepped back. His mind sunk into calmness as if he had done it hundreds of times. He body flowed through a set of _yin_-style_ Tai Chi_.

He completed the set, and stood normally. Something had felt a bit… off. He closed his eyes again, thought for a moment, and went through a _yang_-style Tai Chi set. It felt better. So he was Yang; that was good to know. Bright and Hard, rather than Dark and Soft. His book-knowledge told him how to progress from there. Excellent!

Grinning excitedly, he relaxed his stance. It definitely looked like he could do what he had learned! He was looking forward to when he had a new chance to train with Ares. Or with Miss Zoë, now that he thought of it.

Still grinning, he picked up the book, and started getting ready. He had to finish the junkyard first, followed by a lot of sleep. He had a feeling that he would need it after the massive amount of information he had forced into his brain and his body in the last few days.

Half an hour later, he arrived at the junkyard through the flames of the ever-burning brazier, carrying a cooler with a packed lunch and lots of bottled water. Wherever the junkyard was located, it was hot and dry.

He casually walked to the wreckage of the prototype robot he jokingly called 'Mount Talos'. he'd completed the inventory on most of the large piles yesterday, so he only had a couple more to go; then he'd do a walk around to catch any of the smaller items that he missed from his vantage point.

Arriving at his spot, he placed the cooler in the shadow of the Talos prototype, then checked the two items he'd put apart as a 'possible' for his reward. Next to the plushy lightning bolt, he'd found a bow yesterday. It was silver, and looked to be as enchanted as the Hunter's bows were, but it also turned into a really girly-looking crescent moon hair clip. The bow interested him, the hair clip didn't. He'd put it apart to ask Hephaestus if it were possible to change it into something else.

As fun as the bow Apollo gave him was, it was still a _mortal_ bow. He could use an enchanted one after seeing how useful it was when taking demigods to camp. Something told him that he'd be doing that again.

He nodded to himself; his 'stash' was still there. He would have thought he'd find more that would interest him, but most of the items here were broken.

He sat down, and worked on inventorying the remaining large piles of trash. Flipping to an empty page, he started writing. The process was almost automatic by now, and he wasn't even thinking about it anymore.

Hours later, his stomach growled, and he closed his notebook. The last of the large piles had been done. He'd make a walkthrough of the junkyard after lunch, and make sure he caught any smaller items.

After he finished eating, he took a large bottle of water with him, and started walking.

He found lots more interesting things; unfortunately most of them were incredibly broken. A beautiful shield had been cracked in half. A sword's blade that had no handle, obviously sheered off where it was supposed to be. A busted bow. Incredibly pretty jewelry, horrifically cursed according to his boon.

Not that he was interested in jewelry. Jewelry was for girls.

He dutifully noted each and every piece down in his notebook, then made a final round to make sure he had everything. He also made sure to check over each pile he'd surveyed from his vantage point; he wanted to make doubly sure he hadn't missed anything.

Suddenly, his eye fell on something.

A glint of golden bronze flashed from underneath some corrugated sheets of metal, and Harry frowned; he hadn't seen that glint from Mount Talos and now he was curious.

Walking over, he managed to shift the sheets, uncovering two bracers, side-by-side, covered in dust and grime and buried in the soil.

"Well now," Harry said out loud. It was the first time he had spoken in quite some time, and his voice cracked slightly in the dry desert heat. He sipped some water to clear his throat.

He focused on the two bracers. He blinked, frowned, and focused again.

"Bracers," he said. "Unbreakable. Forged of an alloy of Celestial Bronze and Stygian Iron; enchanted unbreakable by Hephaestus. Forged in the fires of Mount Etna, quenched in the protective waters of the River Styx. Able to store kinetic energy, and release and amplify upon command. When crossing the arms, the kinetic energy will be amplified into an impenetrable barrier in front of the wielder; if struck together will amplify all stored kinetic energy into a wave that is released in a 360-degree sphere around the wielder – blowing back and damaging enemies."

The young boy finished his notes, and looked at the items again. On a lark, he put on one his arm.

Normally, bracers reached to the wielder's elbow, however due to the size difference between him and them, the bracer reached almost all the way up to his shoulder. He laughed for a moment at how ridiculous he looked; before the magical item glowed softly and resized itself to fit him perfectly.

Its twin did the same, despite being on the ground.

"And they change size," Harry said.

"I want those," he decided, picking up the one bracer that was still on the ground and removing the other one from his arm. They were dirty, obviously having been abandoned a long time ago. He blew most of the sand and dust off them, which had stubbornly clung to them despite their changes in size.

"You guys could do with a polish," he said, as if the items could hear him. He started carrying them back to the other items he'd gathered, then froze.

"Mister Hephaestus said _one_ item. I wonder if this counts as one set of bracers, or if I'll get to keep only one." He looked down at the two bracers. "Having just one bracer would be silly."

He shrugged. "I'll need to ask Mister Hephaestus."

After putting the bracers down with the plushy and the bow, Harry resumed his round of the junkyard.

"Huh, a statuette of Mister Hades," Harry said, picking up a small statue carved to resemble the God of the Dead. "I guess I'm not the only one who thinks he's awesome," he said with a chuckle.

Checking his list, he made sure the small statue was recorded, before putting it down again. He finished his round, then made a final inspection of the junkyard, and was finally satisfied that he had completed the job properly when he found no new items to record.

Picking up his potential rewards – even if he did feel a bit silly about the plushy lightning bolt – Harry walked back to the brazier, and stashed them nearby.

Drawing a breath, feeling nervous all of a sudden, Harry waved his hand at the brazier. "Mister Hephaestus," he intoned.

The fire turned green. "Hi Mister Hephaestus," Harry said politely. "I've finished with the inventory."

The fire flared, and Harry stepped back cautiously.

The God of the Forge appeared in all his godly-form glory, and Harry's neck craned to look up. "Hi Mister Hephaestus!" he greeted enthusiastically.

The god seemed annoyed at something, but still nodded. "Hello Harry," he said, gruffly. "Finished the job, have you?"

Harry nodded, still enthusiastic, and held out his notebook. Hephaestus motioned, and the book floated out of Harry's hands, enlarging as it did so.

"I drew an overview of the junkyard, marking the large piles, then listing their contents and info on the contents, before finally making a listing of the smaller stuff, and where they are," Harry reported as the God of the Forge paged through the notes.

The God of the Forge seemed impressed, although his craggy face could be hard to read sometimes.

Finally, he nodded. "This is excellent work," he said, snapping his fingers. A stack of papers appeared in his free hand, before the notebook floated back to Harry, shrinking as it did so, until it was back in the boy's hands in the same size it had been before.

Harry noted that Hephaestus had left him his notes and had merely made copies of them.

"So, Harry," the god said, back to being somewhat gruff. "Did you find an answer to your question?"

Harry blinked in surprise, then recalled the question that had sparked the job offer in the first place. He thought about what he had learned while surveying the junkyard, then slowly nodded. "Osmium isn't a good metal for swords because it is heavy and dense, so a sword made out of it would be too heavy to be useful," he said.

The God of the Forge nodded. "Good. Now, your reward – as I said, you can take any one item from the junkyard. What will it be?"

Harry swallowed. "I found some items," he ventured, and walked to where he had stashed his 'potentials'. Hephaestus followed him with his eyes, remaining where he was.

"I found this set of bracers," Harry said, picking up his number-one items. "I wasn't sure if they counted as one set or not," he added hopefully.

Hephaestus took a step forward, and studied the items in Harry's hands. "Well now," he said, scratching his scraggly beard. "I haven't seen those in a long time. Made them in ancient times for… someone. He prefered offensive weapons, so they got left behind. Some of my best work, though. If you want them, they're yours."

Harry grinned, hopping once with excitement. "That's awesome! Thanks, Mister Hephaestus!"

The God of the Forge seemed amused, despite himself. "You're welcome, Harry."

"Mister Hephaestus?" the young boy ventured as the god started to turn.

"What?" Hephaestus asked, turned back to Harry.

"Is everything alright? You seem… angry or something," Harry asked. "Did I do something wrong?"

Hephaestus studied the boy for a few moments, then sighed deeply. "Nothing you did, Harry. Aunt Hestia's upset with me over this task and the boon. Which is gone now, by the way."

Harry nodded at the last part. "I thought the boon would vanish when the job was done," he said. "But why's Hestia upset?"

Hephaestus sighed again. "That boon had a bit of danger in it, and she was upset over that," he explained.

"Oh," Harry answered, not having expected Hestia to actually confront Hephaestus over it. He was used to going his own way and not having people care; Hestia confronting Hephaestus on his behalf was something he never would have expected.

"Yes, oh," the God of the Forge said with a crooked smile. "See you around, Harry." He vanished before Harry could reply, leaving the boy to stare at empty sky, holding his new bracers.

He slipped them on quickly and tightened the straps. Flexing his wrists, they turned into a pair of fine-chain bracelets; flexing his wrists agin turned them back into bracers. "Awesome," he declared.

He grinned at the junkyard. It had been a lot of hard work, but in the end he'd gotten a royal reward for it. Not to mention all the things he had learned about metallurgy, and engineering.

Now, though, it was time to go back to the Temple and catch up on some sleep. His head still hurt. He glanced a last time at the bow and the plushy, then waved his hand at the brazier and vanished into the green flames.

When he arrived back at Helios' Temple, he cleaned his new treasures, before making some very early dinner. After sharing it with Helios, he ate mechanically, the pounding in his head getting worse. With a small grunt, he put the leftovers in the fridge, fell into bed, and fell asleep practically instantly.

He woke up with the curious sensation of someone slowly rubbing his forehead. It startled him, and he jumped halfway up, before registering that it was Hestia.

The Goddess of the Home looked amused at his reaction, while Harry let out a deep breath, trying to calm his raging heart.

It was dark, but his headache had eased up. "Hestia!" he complained, as he sunk back down on the bed.

"I'm sorry, Harry. That wasn't my intention," the Goddess of the Home said, still smiling that typical Hestia smile that made him feel safe and relaxed.

"I was asleep," he complained.

"So I saw," she replied, her smile widening a fraction. "Did you have a good day? I believe you finished the task Hephaestus set out."

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "I did. Mister Hephaestus was really happy with my work, and he gave me these!" He flicked his wrists, and the two bracelets expanded into full bracers.

Hestia admired them for a few moments. "Those look very nice," she said. "Defensive, too. I like that."

The boy grinned. "Mister Hephaestus seemed a bit upset, though."

His favorite goddess didn't seem surprised. "Oh? How so?"

Harry swallowed; he didn't want to upset Hestia, he really liked her. "Mister Hephaestus said you were upset with him."

Hestia smiled faintly. "He did give you a really dangerous boon, and then didn't warn you sufficiently. He also pushed _his_ job off on you."

"But it taught me a lot," Harry said. "And I got really cool bracers out of it."

Hestia sighed. "It was still dangerous to you, Harry. Hephaestus is a god. He should know better."

Harry reached out and took her hand. She squeezed it affectionately. "Please don't be upset with Mister Hephaestus, Hestia. Mister Hermes warned me to not read any more books, and you warned me not to read any more books, and I'm sure Mister Hephaestus is really sorry and won't do it again."

Hestia sighed again. "You're a really sweet boy, Harry. But sometimes, people can get hurt, and you are very young. Very young people can get hurt more easily."

Harry was silent for a few moments, digesting that. "People also make mistakes," he then said. "And I know how much you love everyone, Hestia. Please don't be upset with Mister Hephaestus. I'm sure he's sorry."

Hestia squeezed his hand again. "I'm just looking out for you, Harry."

He squeezed back, not knowing how to respond. Nobody ever looked out for him. Not like this.

"It's what you do when you care about people," Hestia added with a gentle smile.

"But you care about the other gods, too," Harry said. "And now you're upset with Mister Hephaestus."

Hestia leaned closer, and hugged him. "Oh, Harry," she said. "Sometimes you argue with the people you love most of all. I doesn't mean you love them any less."

Harry had an unsettling flashback to the Dursleys. They were always yelling at him, and putting him in his cupboard. Did that mean that they-

"No," Hestia interrupted his thoughts.

"Sorry?" Harry said, lifting his head from her shoulder and looking straight at her.

"I know what you're thinking. An argument is one thing. The Dursleys is something completely different. So no, Harry, what you had with them wasn't love."

"Oh," Harry said. He put his head on her shoulder again, and let the warmth of hugging the Goddess of the Hearth encompass him. "So you still care for Mister Hephaestus, right?"

Hestia laughed softly. "Yes, Harry. I still love my nephew."

The young boy nodded. "That means you're going to make nice with him, right?"

Hestia laughed again. "Yes, Harry," she said. "I'll make nice with him."

Harry nodded, glad to hear that. He hated the thought of Hestia, kind and caring Hestia, being on odds with anyone because of him. So what, if Mister Hephaestus' boon had been slightly dangerous, and had asked Harry to do his job for him. It didn't matter; the job had been fun, he'd learned a lot, and he was fine. He could take some pain. Hestia shouldn't be fighting with other gods, definitely not over him.

Suddenly, he had the mental image of Hestia, in her preferred form of a nine-year-old mortal girl, waggling her finger at Godly Form, three-meter-tall, solid chunk of muscle Hephaestus, who had his hands linked behind his back, his head bent, scuffing at the floor with one foot, the very picture of remorse.

He laughed softly.

"Can I laugh too?" Hestia asked, sounding amused.

Harry explained the image that had just popped into his mind. The Goddess of the Hearth gave a small laugh. "That wasn't exactly what happened, but that imagine is too amusing not to share," she said, smiling widely.

They fell silent, Harry still wrapped in Hestia's arms, her aura feeling so good and warm and soothing. He closed his eyes, feeling himself ready to fall asleep.

"Hestia?" he muttered.

"Yes, Harry?" the Goddess of the Home said.

"Thanks for looking out for me."

She squeezed him. "Of course," she said. Harry didn't hear; he was already asleep. The goddess smiled at the sleeping boy, and slipped him back in his bed, pulling the covers over him. "Sleep well, Harry. May Morpheus grant you pleasant dreams."

She stood up, and drew a breath. She'd promised, and promises had to be kept. Time to talk to her nephew.

0000

Harry woke up when he felt something shift. It was light out, and he felt really good. His headache had gone, and his body felt like it had gone through some rigorous exercise and had now finished recovering from it.

So what woke him up? Something had _shifted_, or so it felt. He sat upright, and looked around.

His eye fell on the empty space next to him on the bed.

There was the lightning bolt plushy, with a note pinned to it. What was the plushy doing here, anyway? he'd left it in the junkyard, Hephaestus had said he could only take one item!

Curious, Harry touched the pin, ready to pull it out, when it vanished. The note dropped to the mattress, and the plushy itself looked like there had never been a pin at all.

Curiously, Harry took the note, and flipped it open.

_Harry,_

_I'm not much for writing._

_You talked to Aunt Hestia. Thanks._

_I noticed you had this put aside yesterday._

_Hephaestus_

Harry blinked, then smiled widely. "Thanks, Mister Hephaestus," he said, grinning widely. He hugged the plushy, and it rumbled in a soothing fashion, like a thunderstorm rumbling in the far distance.

He dropped back into the bed, pulled the covers over himself, and decided he was going to get some more sleep; the lightning bolt plushy safely in his arms.

A couple of hours later, he woke up a second time, ravenously hungry. He'd basically been asleep since the early evening, and it it was close to lunch time now.

He got up, feeling energetic, and put the plushy back on the bed. He looked at it for a few moments, then arranged it next to his pillow.

His stomach growled again, and Harry grinned, making his way to the kitchen. Yesterday evening's leftovers were heated, then eaten. Still feeling a bit hungry, he made some sandwiches, then ate those too.

A hot bath in the hot springs outside later, he felt ready to take on the world. The headache had completely vanished, his exhaustion had gone the same way, and he felt better than he had felt in a long time.

He tried a basic Wing Chun set, then frowned when he completed it.

He tried it again, taking note to pay extra attention to his movements. It felt like some of them weren't done as they were supposed to; he knew the moves but his body seemed to be unable to execute them perfectly.

He went inside, soon finding himself in front of the full-length mirror installed in the bathroom.

He did the set again, stopping halfway through and correcting himself. He started over, and stopped himself a few moves later than before. Once again, he corrected himself, and started over.

It took him another two tries before he got the set correct, as described by the book.

"It's like I haven't practiced in a long time," Harry said to himself. "Like I need to work on remembering the moves."

He did a second level Wing Chun set. This one went smoother, based as it was on the basic set. He only had to stop himself twice.

Drawing a breath, he looked at himself in the mirror. "Looks like I'll need to work on this if I want to be any good at it," he said.

He flowed through a yang-style Tai Chi set, calming himself, then tried the first Wing Chun set again. It went perfectly.

He looked at himself in the mirror. The knowledge he had gained from the book allowed him to work on a basic training schedule, and he gave a sharp nod at his reflection. He knew himself, and knew he would spend the rest o the day practicing this if he didn't stop himself now.

Time for a diversion. He didn't have anything scheduled, so he had spare time to burn. He could go visit camp; it had been a while since he'd seen Silena. Or Louis and the guys, now that he thought about it.

Turning around, he walked outside, bathed, then dressed himself in comfortable clothing. A quick trip through the fire later, Harry strolled out of Hestia's hearth at camp, in search for his friends.

He found Silena – of course – in the pegasus stables.

"Where have you _been_!?" Silena cried as she hugged him. "It's been forever!"

Harry hugged her back, and gave a sheepish chuckle. "I've been very busy. Sorry for disappearing."

"Humpf," Silena huffed, pretending to be annoyed at him.

"It's a bit of a cool story," Harry said. "How about we round up Annabeth, Louis and the guys and I tell it to you?"

The daughter of Aphrodite looked annoyed at the mention of Annabeth, but nodded when he added the sons of Apollo. "That sounds good," she said, smiling. She hugged him again. "I really did miss you."

Harry, always up for a hug, had no problems with it. "I missed you too," he said.

Leaving the stables, they made their way to the archery range.

"By the way," Harry said, smiling. "Black hair?"

The girl grinned and moved a hand through her – now – black locks. "Like it? As daughter of Aphrodite, I can change things like hair color a lot easier than normal people."

Harry smiled back at her. "If you're happy with it, then I'm happy with it," he said. "You're my friend because you're you, not because of your hair color."

Silena hugged him again, looking ridiculously happy for some reason. Harry was confused why such a simple statement could make the girl so happy, but he went with it. Silently, he reconfirmed to himself that girls were strange.

As they walked, with Silena subtly trying to finagle the story from him, they came across Annabeth first. The daughter of Athena was just coming out of the Arts and Crafts pavilion when she noticed Harry.

With a small scream, she raced at him and hugged him. Harry, grinning, hugged back. He had to visit more often; he loved hugs.

"Harry! How have you been?" she asked, when she released him.

Harry noticed Silena looking very unhappy all of a sudden. "It's a bit of a long story," he told Annabeth. "We were on the way to round up you, Louis, and the guys, so I could tell everyone at once."

Annabeth glared at Silena, then pasted a fake smile on her face, and nodded. "That sounds good, Harry."

He looked from one girl to the other. "What's going on with you two?" he asked, not moving.

"Nothing," they both said at the same time, then glared at each other.

Harry nodded dubiously. "Riiight," he said, sarcastically. "That's why you're glaring at each other."

Both girls looked away.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked again, when it became clear he wasn't going to get an answer. He started feeling worried; he didn't like what he was seeing.

"She almost got you killed!" Silena shouted, pointing at Annabeth.

"She doesn't understand!" Annabeth shouted, pointing at Silena.

Both female demigods were glaring at each other again, and Harry had the distinct impression that, if this had been a cartoon, there would have been lightning bolts flying between the girl's glaring eyes.

Then he remembered Thalia, the daughter of Zeus, and she probably could do that for real.

He shook the thought off, it wasn't pertinent to the current situation.

"Please don't fight," Harry said. "I don't like it when people fight."

The girls grumped, and turned away from each other. Harry was feeling anxious now, having the distinct impression he was going to lose friends, and he didn't like it.

He thought for a few moments, trying to come up with a way to resolve things between the two girls, and hopefully, keeping both their friendships at the same time.

Finally, he said, "Silena, Annabeth was out on the streets for some time. The first thing you learn when you're out on the streets is that you never – ever – trust a stranger." He lifted up his shirt, and showed the faint scar where he had been cut. "This happened when I trusted the wrong person when I first set out on the streets. He tried to kidnap me, and he had a knife. I managed to escape."

Silena grumped, but he could see her heart wasn't really in it anymore. "When I offered to help Annabeth," Harry went on, "she didn't know me. And so, she didn't trust me. It wasn't her fault we were attacked; the fault was entirely with our attacker. Blaming Annabeth for it is blaming the victim. Blame that guy who attacked us, instead."

Silena's shoulders sagged. Annabeth looked victorious, and opened her mouth to say something.

Harry interrupted her. "Annabeth, Silena's my friend. She watched me stagger out of the fire, heavily injured, and collapse. It scared her, and worried her, and she didn't want it to happen again. She blamed you, because you were the only one near that was involved in the situation."

Annabeth looked like she wanted to protest. "How would you feel," Harry said, "if someone you cared for staggered out of the fire, and collapsed, and you heard it was because he or she got attacked while trying to help someone who _appeared_ to be dragging their feet?"

The daughter of Athena sagged slightly. "I'd be angry," she muttered, as if hating to admit it.

Harry nodded, and looked from one girl to the other. "So… no more fighting?"

Silena looked at Annabeth.

Annabeth looked at Silena.

"Sorry," the daughter of Aphrodite muttered, offering an olive branch. "I didn't understand."

Annabeth sighed. "I'm sorry, too. I can see what things look like, at first glance," she said. The awkward silent dragged on for a few eternal seconds. In the end, after thinking about it, she held out her hand. "Friends?"

Silena looked at it for a moment, smiled, before taking the hand and shaking it. "Friends," she declared.

Harry smiled widely. He didn't like seeing people fight, especially if those people were people he cared for. He should talk to Hestia about this; he hoped she'd be proud of him. Maybe she could teach him how she went about diffusing fights – that had been entirely improvised, and came way too close for his comfort.

"I'm glad to hear that," he said, still smiling. "Want to go look for Louis and the guys?"

Annabeth grinned. "Sure!" she said. "I want to know what you've been up to."

"You and me both," Silena piped in. The two girls grinned at each other.

They found the three sons of Apollo – where else – at the archery range. After some good-natured ribbing from the three boys as to his whereabouts, Harry got them to come along with the promise of an explanation.

He took them down to the beach, hands-down his favorite location at Camp Half-Blood.

As the quintet of campers found a good spot to sit, Harry quickly went to the water's edge to greet Poseidon. He didn't get a response this time, but still felt better for having done so.

He quickly rejoined the others, who were watching him with various signs of amusement.

"Enough stalling," Annabeth said. "You were making a big mystery of things, so what happened?"

Harry smiled, and found a good spot to sit, so they were all more or less facing each other.

"Well, first of all, I did Mister Hermes a favor," Harry began. "Now, I can't say anything about it, but he rewarded me with an invitation to a study session on non-deterministic probability."

Louis snorted. Annabeth looked upset. The others just looked confused.

"He invited you to a poker game?" the oldest son of Apollo asked. Silena and the two guys laughed, while Annabeth continued to look upset.

"Gambling's not a good thing," she said.

"Just a bit of fun," Louis replied. "So, did you go?"

Harry grinned. "Later. He invited me, but Mister Hermes is very busy, and so are his… maths partners."

"Gambling is NOT math!" Annabeth protested, crossing her arms.

Louis snorted again. "Tell that to those MIT guys who could have earned millions if they hadn't been thrown out because of their superior maths skills."

The daughter of Athena had no comeback to that and fell silent.

"Anyway," Harry said, still grinning, "I got invited, but Mister Hermes didn't know when exactly that… math's session… was going to take place." Annabeth huffed, but kept quiet. "So a couple of days later," Harry went on to say, "I run into Mister Hermes again, and he invites me to the party on Friday evening at 8. That Friday morning, I got curious about something I read in a book, and went to see Mister Hephaestus."

"You just… drop by the God of the Forge over a question?" Jack – or was it Jim – asked. It was so much easier to call them both just 'guys'.

"Well, yeah," Harry said, as if it was no big deal. "I mean, their temples are right there, and I knock politely. If they don't want to see me, they just don't open the door. It's not like I barge in or anything."

"Sometimes, I forget how different your life is," Silena remarked. "And then you say something like that and rub my nose in it."

Harry laughed, but the other demigods just shook their heads in various stages of amusement. "Anyway, I had a question about metals in use in regular, mortal swords, so I asked Mister Hephaestus."

Harry looked at the other demigods, and said, "Now, you have to understand, Mister Hephaestus is pure awesome. But the thing is, he's not a teacher. He doesn't want to teach, and says he's not very good at it, and because he doesn't teach, I've got no way of knowing if he's actually bad at it or not."

"That happens a lot," Annabeth interjected. "People that are really brilliant at what they do are often very bad teachers, because they can't conceive of anyone struggling with their field, and often overlook the basics because they feel it's obvious."

Harry nodded, keeping quiet about how Miss Athena was the same when trying to teach him. He didn't want Annabeth to feel jealous over him being taught by her mother.

"That makes sense," he replied. "So I ask my questions and Mister Hephaestus tells me he's not a teacher, and he prefers people figure things out for themselves. So, he gives me a bit of a chore to do."

"So, rather than answer your question, he gives you work?" Louis asked.

Harry nodded. "He wanted me to inventory his junkyard, write down what is where, and what's it's made it of and things. He says that figuring it out for myself, I won't forget as quickly as when he just tells me the answer."

"That… makes sense, I suppose," Annabeth said. "But still, Lord Hephaestus' junkyard must be enormous."

"Plus, I'm only eight years old, so I don't know what things are made of," Harry added. "I tell that to Mister Hephaestus, and he grabs my head, and tells me he's going to give me a bit of a boon."

"Oooh," Louis said. "Be careful with boons, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Especially this one," he told the son of Apollo. "Mister Hephaestus gave me psychometry, it allowed me to look at an object and find out what it's made of, how it was made, and so forth. He also tells me that it's unnatural for him to give me that skill, so it will only last three days – otherwise, it will liquify my brain."

The five campers looked aghast. "That's one dangerous boon," Louis added, recovering first.

Harry nodded. "Only, I was thinking Mister Hephaestus was just… exaggerating, you know? I didn't think he'd actually give me a boon that dangerous."

"Oh yes, he would," Louis said. "Gods aren't that careful."

Harry laughed, but none of the others laughed with him. Silena and Annabeth just looked incredibly worried.

"Anyway, Mister Hephaestus said that, because I would be doing his job for him, he'd let me keep one item, any one item, from the junkyard as long as I can carry it out myself."

"And there's the reward," Jack- or Jim? - said. "I can't imagine the stuff in the junkyard of the God of the Forge."

"Trust me, there's awesome stuff in there," Harry said. "But most of it is too large or too heavy to carry. I would have loved that Talos prototype."

Silena looked confused, but the other demigods got the reference and gasped. "What's Talos?" the daughter of Aphrodite asked.

"Talos was a giant automaton built by Lord Hephaestus to defend the island of Crete," Annabeth replied. "It was huge."

Harry nodded. "The prototype was all curled up, but the toes by themselves were three meters tall. I used it as a vantage point, it was the highest point in the junkyard and I could see almost everything from there."

"Whoa," Silena said.

"So, what'd you get?" Louis asked, grinning widely.

"I'll get there," Harry answered calmly. "So, I go to the junkyard and start doing my inventory. When the sun starts dropping, I go back to Mister Helios' Temple, clean up, and make my way to the maths party."

"Please stop calling it a maths party," Annabeth pleaded.

Harry and the others laughed. "So I arrive at the gambling party," he told Annabeth, "and I find out that it's not a maths party at all, and soon I'm introduced to Mister Triton, Messenger God of the Seas, Thor, God of Thunder in the Norse pantheon, and Bai Hu, the Western Wind, from the Chinese pantheon."

"Wait," Annabeth said, while the others gaped at Harry. "You're telling me the other pantheons exist?"

Harry nodded. "Yup. They try not to interfere with each other, though, so they mostly don't interact. Mister Hermes has some buddies there, though, and they play games every so often."

"oh… kay..." the stunned daughter of Athena replied. "Please continue."

Harry grinned, and bowed from his seated position. "Thank you for your permission, kind lady," he answered, making Annabeth pull a face and causing the others to laugh. "So the evening goes really well, and the other gods are really cool guys. Now, here's the fun part."

The others sat closer, and Harry looked them all in the eye. "I won a load of gold. Drachmas, coins, bullion. And the gods were really gracious about it. Probably because they can conjure gold so it's not worth anything to them, but they still let me keep it."

"Whoa," Louis said.

"What he said," the guys added, simultaneously. Silena and Annabeth just nodded.

"There was some grumbling, though," Harry said, "but it was all in good fun, apparently. Anyway, the evening's getting late, but someone makes a comment about fighting and stuff, and it turns out that everyone pretty much agrees that Thor's the strongest god there and would flatten the others if they fought."

The five demigods stared at Harry again. "So I ask him for some tips on fighting," Harry went on. "He tells me he'd love to, but that he'd need to be careful because the pantheons don't interact usually, and if he teaches me, it could step on other gods' toes."

The five listeners just nod. "That's when Bai pulls out this ancient Chinese book on Martial Arts, and claims it was written by his good friend Xuan Wu, The Chinese God of Martial Arts, and that he's not supposed to have it, but that he's willing to put it up as the next wager."

His audience still mute, Harry continued. "Now, we're playing Mahjong by then, which is a really fun Chinese game played with tiles, but there can be only four players. Thor was sitting out, he was kind of coaching me how to play. I tell Bai that, since he's putting up a book, I'm putting up a dessert of the winner's choice, made by me. The other gods decide that, since we're betting favors or items now, they would do the same. Mister Hermes put up a couple of free deliveries, and Mister Triton puts up this really cool conch shell."

Harry reached into his shirt and pulled out a chain around his neck, attached to which was the conch shell. "Basically, if you blow it, it will calm any storm at sea, no matter how bad it is. It'll only work once, though."

"You obviously won that bet," Louis said, looking at the conch in admiration.

Harry nodded. "That's when the really fun part begins. You see, Mister Hephaestus' boon was still active. So when I open the book-"

"You see its history," Annabeth interjected. "That would be awesome!"

Harry shook his head. "First, I don't know Chinese. So Mister Hephaestus' boon pushed the entirety of the Chinese language, written and spoken, into my brain through my eyeballs. Then it pushes the history and development of each Chinese character into my brain. Through my eyeballs. And then, the knowledge of the page I'm looking at it forced into my brain. Through my eyeballs."

"Whoa," Annabeth said. "I'm so jealous right now."

"It hurt like the Dickens," Harry said. "And Mister Hermes got really mad when I explained it. Now, Mister Hermes is a cool guy, and he's fun to be around. But he can be a right scary bloke, you know? And he goes all scary-bloke on me and tell me not read ANYTHING else, and not DO anything else, other than do the inventory in the junkyard, and read that book on Martial Arts because he knows he can't stop me doing that anyway. And then he tells me that Mister Hephaestus wasn't kidding, and that my brain really COULD melt if I did too much."

Annabeth winced. "That's… bad," she said.

Harry nodded. "No kidding. So I go back home, and I read the book, and then Hestia finds me. And SHE gets really mad at Mister Hephaestus, too. Only, I didn't know that. She just tried to make me stop reading my awesome book, but I manage to talk her out of it."

"Lady Hestia? Angry?" Louis asked, surprised.

"Yeah, surprised me, too," Harry said. "Anyway, two days later, I finish both the book and the inventory, and report back to Mister Hephaestus. He's… upset, because Hestia went to see him, and apparently was upset with him. But, he tells me I did the job well, and if it answered my questions, and what object did I want as a reward."

Harry pushed his arms a bit further out of his sleeves, showing the others the bracelets he was wearing. With a twist of his writs, they turned into the magnificent pair of bracers. "I got these. They're unbreakable, and I can create shields and blasts of energy with them."

"Whoa," the guys breathed. "Awesome."

"So, Harry," Annabeth said. "Do you still remember the things you learned?"

"Yes and no," the boy replied. "Yes, I still have the knowledge, but it's like my body's forgotten it. I need to practice to get the moves down correctly."

"How does that work?" Silena asked, beating the others to it.

Harry got up. "Okay, it's like this," he said. "The book has sets – _katas_ in Japanese – of moves, which you perform, one after another. If you do the set properly, over and over again, the moves get burned into muscle memory, and you're then able to use them when you're actually fighting."

He performed a basic unarmed combat set, knowing that it was a fair bit more impressive than the Wing Chun sets he had performed in private. He stopped halfway through, looking at his right hand. He moved it slightly, then took it from a few moves back.

"Like that," Harry said when he stopped. "You saw me stop and start a few times, when I didn't perform a move correctly. It's like I _know_ what to do, but my body doesn't want to follow."

"That makes sense," Annabeth said. "Lord Hephaestus boosted your mind, not your body."

Harry nodded. "That's what I thought, too. I'll probably ask Chiron if I can borrow a couple of swords so I can practice the sword sets, too."

He sat down again. "Anyway, after Mister Hephaestus gave me my bracers, I talk to Hestia, and ask her to not be so mad at him. I know she loves her family, and I don't like it when she's mad at them because of me. Later on, I got a really nice thank-you card from him because Hestia forgave him."

He left out the plushy, because that would just be embarrassing with the older sons of Apollo there. He just knew they were going to make fun of him because of it.

"That was nice of him," Louis replied.

"I thought so too," Harry said, grinning.

"Now I know how you got us to make up," Silena said. "You have experience!"

All six laughed at that.

"So you've got those bracers now," Annabeth said, when the last giggles died down. "Look what Athena gave me for making it to camp!" She pulled out a New York Yankees baseball cap, and donned it.

Immediately, she vanished.

"Whoa," Harry said. Invisibility rocked! He reached out to where she was, and felt his hand being slapped away. "You're solid?" he asked.

"Yup!" Annabeth chirped, sounding proud. She reappeared, the baseball cap in her hands.

"And all us poor sons of Apollo have are enchanted bows," Louis mock-whined.

"Be grateful, this poor daughter of Aphrodite has nothing at all," Silena grumped, looking more than a tad jealous.

"But you _can_ change your appearance really easily," Harry said, trying to comfort her. "And that's a skill, not an item that someone can take from you."

"That's true," the girl in question said, thinking about it, and slowly starting to smile.


	12. Chapter 12

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 12**

Harry studied the featureless mannequin. It appeared to be his own age, but its face was blank, it's features nondescript. It looked like one of those dolls used to showcase clothing in stores, yet Harry knew from experience that it was completely mobile and could be utterly devastating.

"Walk me through the encounter," Athena said, her hands linked behind her back, as she carefully paced in a large circle around Harry and the model.

The young boy kept his face on his opponent.

"I will go in," he finally said. "It will throw a right-handed punch. I will avoid by leaned back, and add energy with my left hand. While it is unbalanced, I will hit its jaw with my right hand, followed by a strike to its throat with my left hand, collapsing its windpipe."

The Goddess of Wisdom nodded carefully. "Execute," she said. Harry nodded, and stepped into range.

The child-like drone threw a right-handed punch, which he avoided by pulling back and slapping with his left hand to add additional energy to it. With the mannequin unbalanced, he threw a right-handed punch, which collided with the drone's jaw.

The drone retaliated by planted its right fist in Harry's stomach.

"Hold," Athena said, the drone stopping at her command. "What did you learn?"

Harry gasped for breath, righting himself carefully. "Don't forget your opponent has two arms," he said.

"Good." The Goddess of Wisdom waved her hand, and the model stepped back, readying itself. "Walk me through the encounter," she said again.

Harry drew a breath; the model had hit him hard enough to leave a bruise, but not hard enough to actually do damage. After the many times the god of War had jumped him for a 'fight', his body had hardened considerably, and he always did have a high pain threshold.

He studied the model for a few moments, trying to get a grasp on what its current skill level was, and attempting to deduce the opening move from its stance.

"I will go in," Harry said. "It will kick at my face with its left leg. I will grab the leg and unbalance it, placing its foot on my shoulder. I will place a double-fisted punch on its genitalia."

Athena lifted an eyebrow. "Execute," she instructed.

Harry stepped in, and the drone threw a high-kick at the boy's face, which he blocked, held, and finally, placed on his shoulder for leverage by stepping further into the drone's range. As his artificial opponent hopped on its right leg to try and maintain balance, Harry struck at its genitals with both fists.

Despite being artificial, the drone screamed and fell to the ground, curling into a fetal position.

"Hold," Athena said, the curled-up model freezing in position. "That was a dirty tactic, yet effective. What did you learn?"

"High-kicks are an insult to your opponent, don't use them in a real fight," Harry said. "And dirty tactics are effective when you don't respect your opponent, or want the fight over and done with."

Athena nodded, yet kept circling them both. "And further?"

Harry blinked, not understanding. "Sorry, Miss Athena?"

The Goddess of Wisdom allowed a tiny smile. "What would be the outcome of using such a tactic?"

The young boy frowned again. "The fight would be over?" he asked. "I'd feel bad about winning that way, though."

"Speculate," Athena stated. "What would be the likely outcome if you used such a tactic, and it became known?"

The boy shrugged. "People would think I used dirty tactics?"

"Yeees," Athena said, dragging the word out. "And their response would be?"

"My reputation would take a hit?" Harry asked.

Athena smiled faintly, and waved her hand. The drone was suddenly on its feet, in ready position. "Walk me through the encounter," she ordered.

Harry, still confused, turned back to the model, and studied it for a few moments. "I will go in; it will attempt a haymaker. I will use an elbow block. I will punch with my opposite hand, and it will deflect the punch. It will attempt a knee-strike, which I will avoid by twisting my hips. I will clap my hands over its ears to stun it, then punch it in the stomach. As it bends over, I will knee-strike it in the nose."

"Execute," Athena said.

Harry stepped in, and the drone executed a haymaker. Harry blocked it with his elbow, and tried to punch with his opposite hand. To his surprise, the model stepped in, so the strike harmlessly hit its shoulder, then it grabbed Harry, and suddenly he felt an uncomfortably painful sensation between his legs.

"Hold," Athena said, the drone releasing him and stepped back immediately. Harry dropped to his knees.

"What did you learn?" Athena asked.

Thankfully, the drone had pulled its knee-strike, so it was merely painful and not _painful_, so Harry was able to get to his legs pretty quickly. Even if he did feel the need to 'walk it off'.

"When using dirty tactics, people will have no hesitation to use them against you," the boy muttered.

Athena nodded. "Good. Then I consider the matter closed."

She looked theatrically to the sun, despite there normally not being a sun in their training room, and seemed to come to a decision. "It is getting late. You should go home. You are improving nicely, especially in the last two weeks. You are able to comfortably predict three moves ahead."

"Thanks, Miss Athena," Harry replied. Since he read that book on martial arts, he could more comfortably predict the fights even if his body had not yet acquired the speed, dexterity, or strength to follow his thoughts yet.

"I hope you continue your improvement," the Goddess of Wisdom said. "You may go."

Harry nodded, and gave a shallow bow. "Thanks for the lesson, Miss Athena," he said, respectfully.

"You're welcome," the Goddess of Wisdom replied. "Your next session will be on Tuesday afternoon, at 1pm."

"Yes, Miss Athena," Harry accepted. "See you on Tuesday."

Athena seemed amused at something, but nodded anyway. Harry turned, and walked out of the training room, and into Athena's library. He stopped by _his_ bookcase, a fact that still filled him with pride, and selected a few volumes to read before his next session with Athena. She always started out with a discussion on his bookwork before ending it in the training room.

He returned to Helios' temple, and waved at the huge statue as he crossed the huge antechamber on his way inside.

After depositing his new books on a small table next to his favorite reading chair, he went into the kitchen to make himself some dinner.

Not feeling very hungry, he settled on something quick and easy to make. After he finished cooking, he shared a portion with Helios, then settled down to read while he ate.

The sun went down, and Harry felt tired so he went to bed early. Hestia hadn't visited, but that was nothing exceptional. She was a goddess, after all, and had other duties.

He slept deeply and comfortably, and woke up early the next morning.

After a good stretch and a long yawn, Harry noticed the sun was climbing into the sky. It was still early, but he'd missed the sunrise.

Ever since he had read that martial arts book, Harry had found himself going to bed early, and rising just as early. Sometimes he caught the sunrise, sometimes he missed it, but usually he got up around the same time.

He waved at Apollo, then went through a couple of sets of martial arts. The sets themselves flowed like water, and Harry was glad for it. He just wished they went as well when he tried to use them in actual fights.

Ares had pounded him into the ground when he tried; complimenting him on trying something new but demonstrating without a doubt that _he_ was God of War. When he tried against Zoë, she had looked surprised, then beaten him with almost no effort.

After two thousand years of experience, that was no surprise, either.

Harry sighed and flowed from one set into the next. He wondered how long it would take him to be actually any good at fighting. Not that he wanted to fight; he just wanted to be able to protect himself and protect others.

He finished his latest set, and stood up straight. About the only place he had seen improvement was in Athena's teachings. Maybe he should talk to Chiron at camp – despite his earlier plans of doing so, he'd gotten distracted by talking with his friends and forgot.

He basked in the early morning sun for a few more minutes, just letting his mind wander.

Finally, he decided on getting some breakfast; but first, a shower.

After his shower and other ablutions, he made his way to the kitchen.

"Hello Harry."

Harry smiled widely, and practically threw himself at his all-time favorite goddess. "Hi Hestia!" He greeted her, given her a hug.

Hestia smiled at him. "Hello Harry," she repeated, returning his enthusiastic hug. "Happy birthday."

Harry froze for a moment. "Really?" he asked, for a moment grappling back to what day it was and coming to the realization that yes, today_ was_ July 31st and it really_ was_ his birthday. 

Hestia's smile widened. "You've forgotten your own birthday?" she asked, teasing.

The young boy shrugged. "It's never been an issue before," he said, then smiled widely. He hugged her tighter. "Thanks, Hestia."

The Goddess of the Home patted his back. "Is there something special you would like for your birthday?" she asked.

Harry froze again, his treacherous mind flashing back to darker times, times where he sat in his cupboard, wishing for something to eat, or clothes that fit, or being allowed out of his cupboard and having a real bedroom.

He looked at Hestia. He'd wished for a family, too.

The young boy swallowed, and hugged Hestia once more. The Goddess of the Home, surprised at the strange reaction to her question, just hugged him back. "Harry?" she asked.

"I've got everything I ever wanted," he said, face buried in her neck. "I've got food, and clothes that fit, and a bedroom of my own." He swallowed against something that stuck in his throat. "And I've got you," he whispered. "Like family. I've got everything I ever wanted. I don't want anything else."

"Oh, Harry," The young-looking goddess whispered, her hold on the young boy tightening, her right hand patting his back. For a moment, she was at a loss on what to say.

Thankfully for her, Harry provided her an out. "Can we cook?" he asked shyly. "I love cooking with you, I learn so much when we do."

Hestia smiled at him. "Of course we can," she said, hoping her voice remained steady. He could have asked for anything, and he asked to spend time with her. She wouldn't soon forget that.

"I've got some recipes that never made it into any mortal's hands," she added, her grin widening. "How about I teach you some?"

"Really? That's awesome!" Harry crowed, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her to the kitchen. Hestia laughed, and allowed herself to be dragged.

00000

Harry put the last Tupperware box in the refrigerator, smiling widely at the food Hestia had taught him to make. He'd shared a portion with Helios, of course, and had the curious impression that the faded Titan-God's presence had given him a hug. He'd grinned up at the statue at the feeling.

"You are progressing rapidly," Hestia complimented him from where she had just finished washing the dishes with a casual wave of her hand. "There are very few mortals I would even be able to share these recipes with."

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks, Hestia."

"It's no more than the truth," the young-looking goddess replied.

A knock on the door interrupted whatever Harry was going to say, and curiously, he went to answer. He didn't receive visitors all that often, and the few times he _had_, it had meant someone needed his help.

He pulled the door open. "Hello Harry! Happy birthday!" Hermes shouted happily.

Harry blinked, surprised that someone other than Hestia would even remember his birthday, let alone come over just to congratulate him.

"Eh… thanks, Mister He… er Mister H?" Harry said, breaking out of his surprise and almost-but-not-quite calling the God by name.

"I'm not here undercover, so you can call me by name now," Hermes said, grinning.

"Cool," Harry said, returning the grin. "Come in, Mister Hermes. Hestia and I cooked, would you like some?"

"I will never say no to Aunt Hestia's cooking," the God of Travelers replied as they walked to the kitchen area. "Hi Aunt Hestia," he greeted his aunt with a smile.

"Hello, Hermes," Hestia greeted back, returning his smile with one of her own.

"So, Harry, I was wondering if you'd like to come on a little trip with me. For your birthday, that is," Hermes offered.

Harry pulled a container out of the refrigerator, and made his way to the stove to reheat its contents. "I'd love to, Mister Hermes! When?" he answered, keeping an eye on the food.

"Well… right now would be good," Hermes said, casually plonking himself down at the table, where Hestia had taken a seat as well.

Harry froze in indecision. "But… Hestia..." he started to say.

"Why don't you go with Hermes, Harry? He is extraordinarily busy, so this chance will not come around often," Hestia said, gently.

"But… I thought we'd spend the day cooking?" Harry said, looking at his favorite goddess.

Hestia's kind smile widened. "We can cook some more tomorrow, or any other day, if you want, Harry."

"Are you sure?" the young boy asked.

"Quite sure," Hestia reassured him. "This chance won't come around often."

Harry nodded, then looked at Hermes, who looked incredibly amused for some reason. "I'd love to go, Mister Hermes."

"Great!" the busy god said, smiling widely. "We'll leave as soon as that deliciously-smelling food is done."

Harry grinned, and served the Messenger God. Hermes didn't so much eat as he _devoured_.

"Manners, Hermes," Hestia admonished him with a Look.

Hermes swallowed his last bite. "Sorry, Aunt Hestia. But that was _delicious_."

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Mister Hermes. Hestia taught me the recipe."

The God of Thieves stared at Harry for a few moments, then glanced at Hestia as if asking for confirmation, before looking back to the boy. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You've got talent, Harry."

The young boy grinned wider, and Hermes stood up. "We should get going, though."

Harry just nodded and trotted after the quickly-moving god. Right outside the temple stood Hermes' chariot, which stumped Harry for a moment as he hadn't seen it when he let the god in originally.

However, it seems Hermes wasn't about to wait around for Harry to make up his mind and was already climbing onboard. The boy, having no other choice, rushed after Hermes.

Within moments, the chariot shifted into a convertible Italian sports car of some kind, and immediately took off into the air, pushing the boy back into his seat with its acceleration.

The rush of air of the open top ruffled Harry's hair. He looked over at Hermes, but found the Messenger God to be perfectly fine, as if the very concept of _wind_ did not exist for him.

"Fun, isn't it?" Hermes asked, grinning widely, doing something with his steering wheel that caused the flying convertible to do barrel rolls.

The shifting forces tingled in Harry's stomach, causing him to laugh out loud with excitement. "This is great!" he crowed as they corkscrewed through the sky over New York City.

Hermes' smile widened. "Finally someone who can take some fun," he noted with a grin. Suddenly, he pulled level, and drove them at eye-level around the Statue of Liberty; close enough that Harry could see the visitors staring out from the observation deck in the crown.

"Won't they see us, Mister Hermes?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling rather concerned.

Hermes waved it off. "Nah. We're totally invisible, Kiddo. Enjoy the view."

Harry did just that. After a couple of full circles around the iconic Statue, including one close enough that Harry felt that he could probably reach out and _touch_ it, Hermes pulled out of the turn and shifted his convertible air car into high gear, pushing Harry back into the seat with yet more acceleration. "Hang on!" the god shouted.

Harry ignored the acceleration, held on to the arm rest, and screamed his encouragement. Suddenly, the rushing air got really quiet, and the city flashed by before rapidly disappearing in the distance.

"Whoa," Harry said, suddenly realizing they were moving incredibly fast.

"So, how does it feel to go supersonic?" Hermes asked, grin still in place. Harry blinked, and budged slightly to look at the speedometer. It was reading really small numbers, rather than really high numbers as he expected. "We're only moving two-point-five kilometers an hour!?" Harry asked in confusion. He'd have guessed they were moving quicker, with how fast the city vanished and all that.

Hermes burst out laughing. "That's Mach two point five. As in, 2.5 times the speed of sound. We're at 15000 feet, so Mach 2.5 is about 1800 miles an hour. Or about 2900 kilometers an hour, give or take."

Harry blinked, then nodded. "Oh, right, because speed of sound varies with altitude and air pressure," he said, recalling having read that in one of _his_ books in Athena's library.

"Exactly," Hermes said as they roared over the country side.

"Can we go any faster?" Harry asked, mischievously. Hermes seemed to be in a good mood, so he decided to risk teasing the god.

Hermes laughed. "Watch this."

More acceleration pushed Harry back into his seat.

"Wheee!" Harry shouted as the car pushed harder.

"Mach 4," Hermes announced. "Sorry, Kiddo, can't go faster than that while invisible or the mortals will start seeing UFOs. And then Zeus will make _me_ see UFOs."

Harry nodded. "I don't like Mister Zeus," he confided in the Messenger God.

Hermes grinned. "Maybe because you announced his latest conquest in front of all the major gods?"

The young boy pouted. "If he was faithful to Miss Hera, I wouldn't have had to. It's his own fault."

The God of Thieves laughed out loud. "I like your reasoning, Kiddo," he said, before glancing at something in the distance. The car slowed down considerably, and descended rapidly. Harry curiously looked over the side of the convertible, realizing that he could do so without any interference from the wind. Sometimes, he thought, being a god was _cool_.

Ten seconds later, they dropped out of supersonic speeds altogether, and were now flying low over a city. "Harry," Hermes said, before shifting the car. "Welcome to Saint Louis, Gateway to the West." the car shifted and pulled underneath the Arch.

"Whoa," Harry said, as they drifted lazily underneath the metal construction. Hermes pulled the car up, allowing them to see _into_ the observation deck.

A couple of minutes later, Hermes shifted them into high gear again. "Ever seen the Grand Canyon, Harry?"

The boy shook his head. "I've seen pictures, but never seen it for real."

Hermes grinned and gunned the car. Harry whooped as the acceleration forced him back into his seat once more.

At the speeds Hermes flew, it took no time at all to reach the Grand Canyon, and with a playful smile the God of Travelers dove deep inside, racing along the narrow ravine.

Finally, Hermes pulled out and parked the car. "Wanna have a go?" he playfully asked Harry.

The boy blinked, not having expected the offer. Suddenly, he remembered Ares, and _his_ car. "Ehm… this isn't like Ares' car, right, Mister Hermes? Ares' car apparently tries to eat people driving it; surviving driving it is a test for his children."

Hermes laughed. "Ares is so much fun sometimes," the god chortled. "No, Harry. This is a legitimate offer. Want to try?"

Harry blinked when the offer was repeated, then nodded shyly. Flying looked like fun.

"Great!" Hermes said, his seatbelt already undone and halfway out the door by the time he finished the word. Harry blinked in surprise again at the quick actions of the god, and had barely undone his seatbelt by the time Hermes yanked the passenger-side door open.

Carefully, Harry climbed out and made his way to the driver's side. Cautiously, he slid into the driver's seat. His feet did not reach the pedals, and he had to sit at the very edge and completely upright to be able to see over the steering wheel.

Hermes laughed at the comical sight, causing Harry to level a pout at the god; this in turn only made Hermes laugh even louder.

Finally his mirth cooled and Hermes showed Harry how to adjust the seat. This being a godly car, it wasn't constrained by this like conventional car mechanics and so the seat and pedals moved far and high enough for Harry to be able to both reach the pedals and see over the steering wheel.

"Good," Hermes finally said. "Now, to start a car, you first make sure it's in neutral. The left pedal is your clutch. Press it down, then check if the gear lever to the center location. Give it a wiggle to make sure."

Harry pressed the pedal and wiggled the gear lever back and forth. "Good. Now start the car by keeping the clutch depressed and turning the key. The first click will unlock the steering wheel, the second click will turn on the electrics. The third click will start the engine – once the engine's started, release the key and it'll move back to the second position by itself.

Harry started the engine, and Hermes grinned. "Good, so far, this is like a mortal car. Now, this is how you fly."

Fifteen minutes later, Hermes' grin was clearly forced, and the god's muscles and sinews stood out as he clamped down on the armrest, unwilling to admit that he was both afraid and wanted to have something for his _other_ arm to grab on to.

Harry, meanwhile, was screaming in joy as the car went into a vertical dive while spinning around its axis, causing the ground to rotate alarmingly in the windshield. Hermes opened his mouth to shout, when Harry suddenly yanked on the steering wheel causing the Car to go from vertical spin to flat horizontal flight in one go, its wheels throwing up clouds of dust from the close pull-out.

"This is brilliant!" Harry shouted.

"Yes. Brilliant," Hermes said with a plastic smile, surreptitiously wiping sweat off his forehead.

"Whee!" Harry shouted as he pulled the car over the Colorado river, throwing up great plumes of water, before shooting straight up into the sky.

Hermes swallowed. The kid was a natural at flying, no doubt about it. He was also a natural at scaring the crap out of people while flying, no doubt about that either. Once thing was sure, he was never getting into anything flown by Harry Potter ever again.

"Harry? Maybe you'd care to touch down?" the god offered.

The young boy's smile dropped and he pointed an epic-level _puppy dog eyes_ look at Hermes. "Do I have to?"

"Maybe for the best," Hermes said, hoping he was sounding friendly. "You're still under-age, and if Zeus ever finds out..."

Harry pouted, but nodded anyway. He landed and parked the car as if he'd been doing it all his life, put it in neutral, and shut the engine off. Hermes stepped out of the car, almost dropping to his knees as he did so. With an effort of will he ignored the weakness in his legs and casually strolled around the car, relieving Harry from behind the wheel.

"Thanks for teaching me to drive and to fly, Mister Hermes," Harry said. "I really enjoyed it."

Hermes, relieved to be the one back in the driving seat, smiled and ruffled Harry's hair. "You're welcome, Harry. How about a quick tour of the US to finish up with?"

"Yeah!" Harry cheered as the car lifted back into the air.

At close to Mach 4, a complete circle over the United States took them less than two hours, and soon Hermes was slowing them down for an approach to Mount Olympus. His right hand pulled out his ever-present smart phone and rattled off a quick text, an action that Harry had seen the god do on multiple occasions over the course of their trip so something he paid no attention to.

Hermes pulled them in for a smooth landing on Olympus.

As the god pulled up to Helios' temple, he stopped Harry from going in. Instead, he opened the glove box and pulled out a brightly wrapped gift. "Happy Birthday, Harry," the jovial god said.

"I get a gift, too?" Harry asked, sounding stunned. For a moment, he choked, then looked at the god. "Thanks, Mister Hermes," he said, softly. Nobody had ever gotten him a birthday gift before, not like this anyway.

Hermes, seemingly recognizing what this meant to Harry, just smiled and ruffled the boy's ever-messy hair.

The boy studied the package intently, then started carefully picking apart the tape that held the paper closed, obviously planning on slowly releasing the contents from its paper.

Hermes grinned. "You can just tear the paper, you know," the god teased.

"But it's so pretty!" Harry defended.

The god shrugged. "It's your gift," he said.

The boy nodded and kept picking, finally opening the paper and revealing a wooden box. He carefully opened the lid. "Whoa," he said at the contents. On the right was a leather pouch that held various tools made of metal, while the left held a small set of see-through locks.

"The lock picks have a small learning enchantment," Hermes explained. "Nothing too much, but they'll teach you how to pick locks quicker. The locks are training locks, made of clear acrylic so you can study how a lock moves and behaves and study its inner workings. There's a how-to booklet in there as well."

The god held up his finger to his lips. "Just don't tell Hestia I gave you this, alright?" he asked, winking.

Harry grinned widely. What eigh… er… _nine_-year-old hadn't thought about learning to pick locks, after all? "Alright, Mister Hermes!" he chirped. "This is brilliant. Thank you so much."

The God of Thieves simply smiled. "You're most welcome, Harry."

Harry grinned, gave the god a wave, and jumped out of the convertible, clearing the door without issue. Carrying the box, he made his way into the temple.

Athena had been teaching him to be more observant, and to be mindful of details, so he realized that he was carrying a box that Hermes had asked he not reveal to Hestia.

Since it was possible that Hestia had been waiting for him to return, Harry cautiously hid the box underneath Helios' altar. Just in case she _had_ been waiting for him. He could hide it in his room was the coast was clear.

"Mister Hermes gave me a lock pick set, but he's asked I don't tell Hestia," Harry whispered to the statue, putting his finger to his lips. "So can you hide this for a while?"

Helios' presence felt amused as it wrapped around Harry, followed by a feeling of understanding and reassurance, which the young boy interpreted as being the faded god's agreement. The space underneath the altar seemed to be deeper in shadow than it had been a moment earlier, and Harry grinned.

"Thanks, Mister Helios," he said. "I'll make sure to cook something really nice tonight," he promised, giving the statue a wave.

Helios' presence felt amused at something else now. Harry dismissed the feeling, he had the impression that the faded Titan-God of the Sun had been as fun to be around as Apollo was, and enjoyed laughing and jokes as much as the current Sun God did.

He stepped into the temple's inner sanctum, and squinted. The residential areas seemed darker than they should be.

Then he realized that the torches and braziers that Hestia can conjured for him when he had first met her, and that had burned continuously for close to 18 months now, were cold and dark.

Harry's frown deepened; had something happened to Hestia? If someone hurt her, he was going to put Mister Ares' lesson to good use!

His pace increased as he made his way to the living room area, determined to reach the hearth. His worry turned to anger as he thought of someone hurting Hestia.

"SURPRISE!"

As the adrenaline of the unexpected yell rushed through his body, Harry jumped back two paces, landing in a perfect martial arts stance by pure instinct, his lower arms suddenly covered in the bracers while his right hand was holding Hestia's lasso up in a threatening fashion.

At the same time, the braziers and torches sprung back to life, driving off the darkened shadows that had been hiding quite a few people.

Then he realized just _what_ had been yelled, and that he knew all of the people present. He relaxed his stance, and looked sheepish.

Assorted snorts and laughter came from the group, and Harry dismissed the lasso and bracers as he looked them all over. Artie was there, as was Miss Zoë, Louis, the guys, Silena, and Annabeth from camp Half-blood were there, too. Miss Athena, Mister Apollo, and Mister Hephaestus were standing with Mister Dionysus, who seemed inordinately pleased over something.

And in front of them stood his all-time favorite goddess. "Happy birthday, Harry," Hestia said, approaching him.

A long banner had been tied between two of the support columns, proclaiming 'Happy Birthday Harry', the comfortable couches in front of the hearth had been pushed to one side, to be replaced with a long table that held a large chocolate cake, as well as various bowls filled with different drinks.

Harry smiled at her, now that his heart-rate was dropping down to something that was approaching normal. "Thanks, Hestia," he answered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Having always been alone, he never did well in crowds, even if he knew all the people here.

"Every boy should have a surprise birthday party at least once in their life," the Goddess of the Home went on to say. "Dionysus was more than happy to oblige."

"Mister Dionysus is cool," Harry replied, smiling. Suddenly, the others were upon him, wishing him a happy birthday. He shook hands, exchanged hugs with Silena and Annabeth, and didn't recall much of what happened. The press of people around him was making him twitchy, and he felt his chest tighten.

And suddenly, the pressing of people was over, and he had room to breathe.

"So this is how the other side lives, huh?" Louis said, grinning. "Nice digs."

"Ehm… thanks?" Harry replied, not sure how to take the comment.

The son of Apollo just smirked, and held out a package. "The guys and I decided that you needed some culture, so we got you these."

Harry smiled as he reverently accepted the package. He was getting gifts from _everyone_? "Thanks," he said, sincerely, yet shyly.

"Hey, no prob," Jim – or Jack? - said. "Hope you like them."

Harry carefully unwrapped the package, to reveal a stack of comic books. "Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Spider-man, Fantastic Four," he read the various titles. "These look awesome! Hey, there's one based on Thor, too! I've got to show this to him if I see him again, he'll get a kick out of it."

"Glad you like them," the other guy – Jack, or Jim – said.

"I do, these look awesome," Harry repeated, carefully putting the stack of comics down on the far end of the large table, so they wouldn't get lost or damaged. "I'll be reading those tonight."

The three sons of Apollo grinned widely, before Silena held out a smaller package. "Annabeth and I decided that you needed to have some fun, too."

"While keeping your mind busy," Annabeth added with a teasing grin, making Silena roll her eyes.

Harry chuckled at the byplay between the two girls. Even when they were being friendly, they were digging at each other. As long as they weren't fighting, he was good with it.

"Thanks, Silena, Annabeth", he said, sincerely, as he carefully unwrapped their present.

It turned out to be a cardboard box, covered in intricate designs. "Mythomagic?" he read.

"It's a box that holds a deck of mythomagic cards," Annabeth explained. "It's a game based around Ancient Greek history, with the gods and goddesses, various heroes, and monsters. There are figurines, too, but those are for the advanced version. Silena and I decided on getting you a starter deck and some expansion packs to start with."

"Whoa," Harry said, taking the thick stack of cards from its box and rifling through them. "Hey, Artie's in here!" he said, excitedly.

The Goddess of the Hunt, hearing her name, curiously drifted closer. "Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt and the Moon," Harry read. "2500 attack, 3000 defense. As Goddess of the Hunt, Artemis can execute one (1) concealed strike upon being summoned to the battlefield. This concealed strike can not be avoided by its target, but removes Artemis' defense during that turn. During a night-phase, Artemis' attack power increases by 500 points."

The Goddess of the Hunt looked sincerely amused at the description. Harry flipped further through the cards. "Where is..." he started to ask.

"Hestia?" Annabeth and Silena asked simultaneously, before looking at each other and bursting out laughing.

"We had to do some work to find her card, it's almost as rare as finding a figurine of Lord Hades," Silena explained. "We know you'd never go for it without her card, though. It's at the bottom of the deck."

Harry flipped to the last card. "Hestia, goddess of Home and Hearth. Zero attack and defense?" he asked, vaguely wondering whether he should be outraged over what he saw was a slight to his favorite goddess. "Kind-hearted Hestia will never engage in battle, nor can she ever _be_ engaged in battle. Hestia will remain on the field until the summoning player is defeated. Once per round, Hestia can stop one (1) fight from occurring, with no ill effects to either combatant. This effect may be called upon at any time, including the opposing player's combat phase. The combatant placed under Hestia's protection can not act for one entire round, except if the protected combatant is the player themselves."

Harry looked at Hestia, who was smiling widely. "That's so completely accurate," he said, grinning. He looked at the two smiling demigoddesses, and said, "you will have to teach me how to play this. It sounds awesome!"

"Of course," Annabeth said, causing Silena to nod.

He carefully returned the cards to the box, before putting said box on the table, next to the stack of comic books.

When he turned back, Artie was _right there_, obviously having stuck around from where she had been listening to har mythomagic card's description. "Here you go, Harry. Happy Birthday," she said, holding out a gift-wrapped parcel.

He grinned, and gave him second-favorite goddess a hug, not noticing how the room suddenly went utterly silent. The Goddess of the Hunt hugged him back, before releasing him.

Harry grinned, and opened his latest gift. "One Hundred useful plants you've never heard of," he excitedly read the title, before flipping through the small volume. "Whoa, this is great! I really _haven't_ heard of these plants!"

Artemis laughed softly. "I wouldn't be much of a goddess if I gave you a book on plants you already knew," she said.

"True," Harry said, nodding seriously. "Thanks, Artie."

"You're most welcome, Harry," the goddess answered, stepping aside to make room for her Lieutenant.

Harry looked utterly surprised, he didn't think Zoë would be one for giving gifts. "I do believe that thou couldst do with this," she stated, calmly.

She handed him an old-fashioned leather-bound book with no title. Glancing curiously at her unreadable look, he cracked it open. The book was written in Greek, using old-fashioned calligraphy, calligraphy the likes of which could only be produced by people who wrote all correspondence by hand and made it look _beautiful_.

"Whoa," Harry said. Despite the calligraphy momentarily making his demigod-induced dyslexia flare up, it settled down when he started puzzling out the Greek words. "Is this a journal?"

Zoë looked amused. "'T is but an excerpt, of course. 'T should be helpful for thy further training."

"This is great," Harry said, reverently closing the book. "Birthday hug?" he asked.

The Hunter shot him a tolerant look, then held out her hand. "Birthday handshake," she compromised, as Harry knew she more than likely would. He grinned, and shook her hand.

"Thanks, Miss Zoë."

"Thou art welcome," she answered with a smile. Harry thought she should smile more often, she was very pretty when she did. Not that he'd be stupid enough to ever tell her that.

He turned to put the book on the table, along with the other presents he'd gotten so far, only to come face-to-face with the one teacher he was more afraid of than any of the others.

Athena.

"Hi Miss Athena," he greeted the Goddess of Wisdom politely, at once understanding why she had seemed amused when he said he'd see her on Tuesday. She must have already known about the surprise party.

"Happy Birthday, Harry," she said on her usual level tone – the kind of tone that made Harry check whether he'd done or said anything offensive recently – while handing him a package.

It sat rather heavily in Harry's hands, and he felt surprised that this particular goddess would even bother with giving him a gift at all, considering that he was under the impression that she rather disliked him. "Thanks, Miss Athena," he said gratefully, smiling widely at her.

He carefully picked apart the paper, to reveal a box set. "Nancy Drew starter set," he read the title.

"I think you will enjoy them," Athena stated. "A taste of what you can achieve when you use your mind."

Artemis laughed softly. "Not to mention they feature a strong female protagonist. I heartily approve."

"Of course you do," Athena answered her fellow goddess, a teasing note in her voice.

Harry grinned and put his latest gift on the table. The teasing seemed friendly enough and reminded him of how he sometimes teased Miss Zoë.

Hephaestus was suddenly _right there_, in that eerie fashion that the Smith God was so fond of, in his full Godly Form, towering over all the others. "Here," he unceremoniously said, holding out a package that seemed ridiculously small in his large hands.

Harry grinned and accepted the present, which was larger than it first appeared. He carefully picked it open. "A large Meccano set!" he shouted. "This is brilliant. Thanks, Mister Hephaestus!" he looked up at the large form, and quieter, said, "And thanks for… you know."

Hephaestus gave a horrific-looking kind of grin, and patted Harry on the back. A gesture that drove the boy two steps forward and almost made him tumble to his knees. "No problem," the large god said. Looking around, the Smith God added, "I don't do well in groups, so I'll be off." Without waiting for a reply, he stalked out of the room.

Harry nodded, understanding the god's reluctance. He wasn't too fond of large groups of people either.

After putting his gift with the others he had received, Harry saw Apollo approach, rather reluctantly. Wondering what was up with the usually friendly god, Harry smiled at him, and greeted him normally. "Hi Mister Apollo!"

Apollo smiled, but it seemed stiff somehow. "Here you go, Harry. Happy birthday."

"Thanks, Mister Apollo!" Harry said, grinning widely, immediately starting to work on dissecting the wrapping paper.

"You may want to do that in private," Apollo said, reluctantly, causing the eyes of various goddesses to focus on the God of the Sun. The demigods, hovering nearby, fell silent, too, wondering what was up.

Harry was experienced in opening packages by now, and had already unwrapped his latest treasure. "Hey, wow, more comics!" Harry said, grinning widely. Apollo's smile turned exceedingly brittle under the scrutiny of most the other guests.

"U – Ro – Tsu -" Harry puzzled out, then gave up on the title and focused on the subtitle. "Legend of the Overfiend," he read. "Hey, comics about hunting monsters!" Harry flipped the first comic open, before his eyes went wide. "Is that monster ripping the clothes off of that poor girl!?" he demanded, not knowing whether to be offended or sickened.

"APOLLO!" Hestia shouted, suddenly in her full adult form. Apollo flinched and shrunk back. The First and Last of the Olympians grabbed the Sun God by the ear with her right hand, before her left gently pulled the comic out of Harry's hands. "That is a naughty comic book, Harry. It's not suitable for your age at all. Apollo, you and I are going to have a talk."

"But Aunt Hes-" the god in question started, before the goddess twisted his ear. "Ow! Ow! Ow! My ear! My ear!" he squeaked as Hestia pulled him along.

"Excuse me while I go and… discuss… things with my degenerate brother," Artie said, also suddenly in her adult form, while stalking out of the room as if on a mission, following Hestia and Apollo.

"There are days that Lord Apollo is just looking for trouble," Zoë lamented, shaking her head. "'T is a shame he did so on thy birthday," she said to Harry.

Harry nodded, still looking at the exit. "That really was a dirty book, though," he said, mostly to himself, still shocked at what he had seen.

Shaking his head, he turned to the other end of the table. He needed a drink.

Dionysus hadn't moved and was standing close to the drinks himself, looking as if he didn't see what the big deal was. Harry smiled at him, and approached.

"Hi Mister Dionysus. Thanks for the party," he said politely, knowing that the god in front of him didn't like demigods at the best of times.

"Yes, hello, Harold," the god said. "And you're welcome and all that rot."

Harry grinned. If you didn't take it personally, Dionysus was a lot of fun. "How are things going with the dessert chef?"

Dionysus' smile turned fractionally more genuine. "I had to hire a couple, and educate them properly, of course. But they are working well. Very well," he added the latter with a chuckle. "That was a good idea, Harold."

Harry smiled at the god, knowing it, and this birthday party, were as close as he would ever get to a thank you. "I'm glad I could help, Mister Dionysus."

"Yes, yes, off with you, Harold," Dionysus said, waving at Harry, obviously at the end of his patience. Harry dipped his head, and turned to get a drink.

"Whoa, that's the longest I've ever seen someone talk with Mr. D. without him getting angry," Louis said, approaching Harry as the boy studied the various bowls of punch set out for refreshments.

"If you don't take it personally, Mister Dionysus is funny," Harry said, finally making a selection. Taking a plastic cup, he filled it with the contents of his chosen bowl.

"If you say so," one of the guys answered.

"Yeah, Mr. D is scary," Silena whispered, glancing at the surly god standing at the end of the refreshment table. Annabeth simply nodded.

Harry tasted the punch, frowned, and looked at his cup. "What a waste," he said.

"What?" Louis asked, not expecting that response as he, and the other demigods, started filling their own cups.

"Someone spiked this punch with 30-year-old Laphroaig," Harry answered, before blinking in surprise. The other demigods stared at him.

"What's Laphroaig?" Annabeth asked, beating the others to it.

"Whisky," Harry answered, still out of it, as he sniffed his drink. "Really good whisky. But it makes me wonder. How am I able to recognize the age and kind of whisky, despite it being used to spike punch? Aunt Petunia was a gin woman, and while Uncle Vernon like a good whisky on occasion, he usually stuck to the cheap stuff."

Dionysus gave a hidden grin, then loudly made an excuse and left.

"Thou should not drink more of that punch, then," Zoë said, suddenly appearing as if by magic. "If 't is spiked so heavily."

Harry nodded. "It feels like a crime though. Why waste good alcohol on spiking punch? Who'd do such a thing?"

Zoë grimaced. "Lord Apollo, no doubt."

"That does sound like something Dad would do," Louis agreed. He tried a sip of the spiked punch. "Wow, that's good spike," he said.

"Are the others spiked as well?" Harry asked, taking an innocent sip of his spiked cup.

"This one's fine," Annabeth said, pointing to the bowl she had just tried. Silena nodded in agreement, having taken a cup from the same source.

"This one, too," one of the guys said, pointing to the third bowl, while innocently trying to fill the rest of his cup from the spiked bowl.

"It looks like this is the only spiked bowl, then," Harry said, taking another sip while no-one was watching.

"That one is the only one what?" Hestia asked, innocently, while walking back into the room.

"Spiked," Annabeth and Silena tattled immediately, while Zoë gave a resigned nod.

"'T was probably the work of Lord Apollo," Artie's Lieutenant said, having no qualms about throwing her patron's brother under the chariot.

Hestia sighed, and motioned. The bowl, and any cups containing the contents of said bowl, emptied themselves. Harry pouted slightly, he had been enjoying that spike.

"Did everything go alright?" the boy asked, trying to cover for missing his drink. "You seemed really angry."

"I _was _angry," Hestia explained. "That gift was entirely inappropriate, even without your age being a consideration. I merely had a few words with my nephew. It is Artie that he needs to fear."

Zoë nodded agreeably. Harry shuddered; Angry Artie turned into _Artemis_, and Artemis was _scary_. "Mister Apollo will be alright, though, right?"

"He will be," Hestia assured him. "Don't worry. And he'll have learnt to make sure a gift is age-appropriate in the future."

Harry nodded dubiously, but as always was willing to go along with Hestia. "Alright, Hestia."

"Perhaps we should cut the cake?" she offered, while drawing the attention of the Goddess of Wisdom, who had been occupying herself with looking through the selection of books that Harry was reading.

The boy nodded eagerly, before turning to his demigod friends. "And maybe then you can teach me to play Mythomagic."

Annabeth beat everyone to it. "Sure!" she chirped, Silena and the three sons of Apollo grinning and nodding as well.

Within moments, the Goddess of the Home's excellent carving skills had everyone with a plate of cake.

Harry tried his, then shuffled closer to his favorite goddess. "How did you manage _that_ amount of flavor?" he asked, curiously.

Hestia smiled at him. "I am a goddess, Harry," she teased slightly. "There are some things that require just a bit more than just ingredients."

"Aww," Harry pouted theatrically, causing Hestia to laugh softly. "Thanks, Hestia," he added. "For the cake and the party and everything. It's great."

The Goddess of the Hearth smiled, and patted his shoulder. "You're welcome, Harry. Now, you should go and have some fun with your friends, they're looking excited about teaching you their card game."

Harry grinned, deposited his empty plate on the table, and wondered for a moment when he'd finished it.

Just as he turned back to walk to his demigod friends, the room silenced again. This time, the silence was not just one of surprise, but on of dread and fear.

Harry blinked, wondering why everyone was suddenly silent, when he noticed a new visitor.

Hera, Queen of the Gods, Goddess of Marriage and Family, walked into the room as if she owned it.

Which, now that Harry thought about it, may very well be the truth considering that she _was_ Queen of the Gods.

"Harry," she said, stopping in front of the boy.

Harry swallowed, and smiled at her. "Hi, Miss Hera!" he said. Despite how everyone seemed to be afraid of her, she'd seemed rather nice on that Solstice Meeting.

"I have heard that today you are celebrating the day of your birth," Hera stated, and held out a small, thin, rectangular package. "Happy Birthday."

"Whoa, Thanks Miss Hera!" Harry said, excitedly, accepting the package from her hands. With practice came skill and he took no time in picking the wrapping paper off of the gift.

He froze when he looked at it.

"As Goddess of Familiar Love, I am able to draw upon the images of family connections," she explained. "That picture is of your parents, during their mortal days. Unfortunately, that is the extent of what my domain allows."

Harry gave no indication of hearing the goddess' explanation, and just stared at the picture, one finger carefully stroking the faces of the two people depicted. Slowly, a tear made its way across his right cheek. A moment later, a second one rolled down the other cheek.

He swallowed thickly. "This is brilliant," he whispered. Looking away from the picture, he looked up at Hera, his eyes red as a third and fourth tear slid down.

He hugged her. "Thank you very much, Miss Hera."

There was a gasp of the people present, and for a moment, Hera had frozen with her hands up. Instinctively, she looked at her oldest sister. Hestia simply stared back, a smile on her lips but a hard edge in her eyes.

Sighing, Hera relaxed slightly, and patted the boy's back. "You're welcome, Harry," she offered, her voice tight, as if unsure of what to do next.

The boy released her just as quickly. "I have to go put this on my nightstand," he said, racing away.

"That was a nice thing you did," Hestia said, smiling gently. "Especially as you do not normally like helping demigods." She held out a plate. "Cake?" she offered.

Hera tried not to pout, especially now that Athena was joining them. "I have been keeping an eye on young Harry," she said, attempting to deflect. "He has been working diligently." She accepted the plate regardless. "And I would never say 'no' to one of your confections."

Hestia smiled at the compliment while Athena nodded. "Most would have surrendered after a single lesson with myself," she said, bringing the conversation back to the young boy.

Hestia smiled teasingly. "Or with Artie," she said. "Or with her Lieutenant. Harry has a way of pressing on, despite adversity, and getting his teachers to like him."

The Goddess of Wisdom nodded. "We must be careful, however. There is a fine line between applying pressure, and breaking a mortal."

"Oh? How so?" Hera asked, putting her empty plate down. Nobody baked like Hestia. "From where I looked, he appeared to be doing very well. So well, in fact, that several gods have begun searching him out to perform minor errands for them."

Athena nodded again. "Harry is well aware that his… special circumstances… here on Olympus, are due to Hestia's influence. He has stated, on multiple occasions, that he would do whatever it took to complete a task because he does not wish to reflect badly upon her."

Hestia didn't know what to think of that. "I merely offer him options," she said. "I talk to a few people, see who is willing to give him a few lessons. It did not take a lot of effort on my part."

"And yet, he believes that his performance will reflect back upon you, Aunt Hestia. He fears that, should he fail, it will be you who will look bad," the Goddess of Wisdom said. "I believe most of the gods involved have explained that we are happy to repay a favor or two, considering how much all of us owe you."

Hera nodded. "The amount of help you have given in calming angry parties is substantial. Given a few lessons to your favored mortal is a small price to pay. Especially if the boy in question is, from all appearances, an eager student and a hard worker."

Hestia smiled softly. "And I am grateful for those considerations," she said. "I am merely worried that Harry would work himself too hard in an effort to somehow 'live up' to those favors. It sounds like he's under the impression that I somehow paid considerably for those small favors."

Athena nodded. "That was precisely the impression I got. While it benefits him to work hard at any task he does, it may also result in overwork. Mortals are incredibly fragile, especially at that age."

Hestia sighed. "I will try and discuss it with him," she said. "Thank you for bringing it my attention, Athena."

The Goddess of Wisdom smiled crookedly. "All in a good teacher's job description, Aunt Hestia."

As the two goddesses smiled companionably, Hera grinned. "Given what he knows, it was not a bad leap of logic to make, though," she said. "As far as he is aware, all demigods go to Camp Half-Blood. Most of those demigods barely have any contact with us, let alone get lessons from the gods directly. He has also been told, by those same demigods, that gods are territorial, egotistic, and will curse first and ask questions later – if we bother to ask questions at all. Given that, it wasn't a bad thought of him to take what he knew and expect us all to be angry with Hestia should he fail at his lessons or his tasks."

Both Athena and Hestia nodded at the Queen of the Gods' statement, before Hestia sighed slightly. "I tried to get him to see us as people, rather than angry gods smiting left and right," the Goddess of the Home explained. "It's a lesson I hope to see him continue to value."

Hera looked amused. "Considering his reaction to my gift, I do not believe you have to worry about that, sister," the Queen of the Gods said. "I do not recall any demigod has ever dared embrace me as he just did."

Hestia's gentle smile widened as she looked at her youngest sister. "I do not believe that you have ever given a demigod as much as you just gave Harry either, sister," she answered calmly.

Hera grinned slightly. "That boy is a demigod born within my domain, a testament and honor to it rather than an affront to it. I have kept my eye on him, from a distance, and he has always acted honorably."

"He continues to model himself after Aunt Hestia, and succeeding remarkably well," Athena added.

Hestia smiled. "He's such a sweet boy."

The Goddess of Wisdom's smile twisted slightly. "I had to expand some effort to get him to accept any sort of combat training. Considering he _is_ a demigod, and an especially heroic one at that, he definitely needs the training. Yet, I had to convince him to accept it. Eventually, I was able to assure him that being able to fight did not mean that he _had_ to fight, and that it would serve as a good tool should he ever find himself in another situation as when he rescued my daughter."

Hestia's eyes slipped to the Daughter of Athena, who was sitting quietly, talking softly, with the other four demigods. They had retreated to one of the comfortable couches that had been pushed against the walls, far away from the talking major gods, trying not to be a bother.

"She's a good girl," Hestia said. "A bit headstrong and stubborn, but all demigods should be to one extent or other."

Hera's lips twisted in an ugly fashion, but remained quiet. She had been in a good mood and didn't want talk of demigod bastards to ruin it for her. "It seems Ares had no issues getting the boy to train," she said, bringing the conversation back to the previous topic.

Athena barked a short laugh. "He simply jumped the boy and ordered him to fight. That was not convincing, that was basically a challenge on his life."

"I am still pleased that Ares seems to be pulling his punches and leaving nothing but bruises during their training sessions. I had my concerns, but it appears that Ares, in his own, brutal, fashion, is trying to look out for Harry," Hestia said.

"As surprising as that is," Athena muttered. She fell quiet when Hestia leveled her with a _look._

"Did you ever find a magic teacher for Harry?" Hera asked, changing the subject.

"Hecate declined straight out," Hestia replied with a shake of her head. "I was able to track down Circe, who agreed to come and see Harry for no other reason but to spite her mother, no doubt."

"Probably," Hera replied. "Circe and Hecate have a rather strained relationship at the best of times."

Hestia nodded in agreement. "Circe came and looked at Harry, and immediately said she could not teach him. Apparently, one or both of his parents placed an enchantment upon Harry, one that would have safeguarded him had it not been modified. At first, it was akin to being dipped in the Styx – invulnerability at the cost of the life of the parent and a continuous drain on the boy's magic. Someone modified it, and rather than invulnerability it is now hiding the boy from any and all detecting methods; which is why he has never been attacked by a monster while in the mortal world. The enchantment would dissipate on his 11th birthday, allowing him to start magical schooling with the mortals."

"And because it was done due to a choice of the parent, Hecate as Goddess of Magic, Crossroads, and _choices_ would never dream of going against the choice of the parent," Athena said.

Hestia nodded. "And Circe said she wouldn't mess with an enhancement that she called a work of art. I think she merely didn't want to teach Harry and took that as an excuse. She _did_ say that it would require a level of skill and ability that only a god or goddess would posses to further modify the enchantment without shattering it entirely. The first modification has left it rather brittle, it seems."

"So, with all the power and influence and abilities at the disposal of the Gods of Mount Olympus, the only thing we can do is wait for the enchantment to dissipate and send him to mortal school when he turns 11?" Hera asked, her tone halfway between incredulous and amused.

"We could always shatter the enchantment," Athena offered, which got her a dangerous look from both Hestia, who favored Harry and thought of how much problems that would get the boy, and Hera, who was goddess of family and took it as a slight against her domain.

The Goddess of Wisdom lifted her hands in surrender, causing the two sisters to calm down.

Hestia took a breath, and looked at Hera. "As Harry has had casual contact with other pantheons, I have been seeking out others that may be of help."

The Queen of the Gods looked offended at the notion, and opened her mouth for an angry retort, when Hestia held up her hand. "Our own goddess of Magic is bound by a secondary domain not to interfere. There are others who are not."

Hera still looked offended, but remained silent. "Who did you have in mind, Aunt Hestia?" Athena asked.

Hestia smiled secretively. "I am still trying to get in contact, so nothing is definitive."

"A wandering god or goddess?" Athena asked, curiously. "There are not many of those around. Most fade when they lose worshippers."

Hestia remained silent, while Hera looked rather put out. "I am still not pleased."

The Goddess of Home and Hearth shrugged. "We can always wait until Harry turns 11. I would rather he have a basic grounding in magic before sending him to mortal magic school, but if it is your command that we wait, I shall, of course, obey."

Hera looked like she had eaten something unpleasant. "Fine, then," she said. "I am still not pleased, mind you. Either way, we will be admitting that none of our own are willing or able to assist the boy. At least by bringing in an outsider, the boy will gain something from it." She focused on Hestia. "Better make sure it is someone impressive enough that we can save some face."

Hestia smiled softly. "The one I have in mind is definitely impressive enough," she answered.

Athena's eyes widened, suddenly making a connection. "_HIM?_" she asked. "Aunt Hestia, you're trying to get _him_ to teach Harry?"

"Who are you talking about?" Hera asked, looking from one goddess to the other and back.

Hestia smiled secretively. "Now, now, Hera. I'll explain if he agrees. No need to get worked up otherwise."

Athena knew better than to argue with Hestia, so Hera had no other course but to pout at being denied knowledge.

That was the moment Harry returned, having taken suspiciously long to put the picture on his nightstand. The three goddesses stopped their conversation and looked at him; making him rather uncomfortable.

Giving a rather brittle smile, he grabbed the deck of Mythomagic cards and rushed to his demigod friends. "So how do we play this game?" he asked, hoping to divert the attention away from him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 13**

**AN: after chapter 12, a lot of people seem to be convinced that the tutor Hestia is trying to line up for Harry is Loki. I can reassure – or disappoint – those people…**

**It's not Loki. **

Harry stared at the rising sun from the yard behind Helios' Temple. He'd given Apollo a wave, as well as a silent hope that the god hadn't been hurt _too_ badly by Hestia – or by Artie – because of the present debacle the day before.

The sun had winked back, so he'd assumed so.

Drawing a breath, he closed his eyes and focused on his inner energies. He'd only been training for a little under a month since he'd gotten that book on Martial Arts, but somehow he had managed to make a tremendous amount of progress with it in that short amount of time.

Maybe the book _had_ left something behind in his muscles, other than just knowledge.

The thought drifted away, carried on a sea of calm. Imagining starry skies came easily, and allowing his ephemeral thoughts to drift away like clouds on the ether took mere seconds now.

He brought his hands up, putting one fist into his other hand in a form of salute, before he engaged in a movement set.

Both open hands pushed down, as if pushing his thoughts further away from his focus, before he took a step forward and stabbed out one hand, as if willing it to spear an opponent. Next, he blocked an invisible strike, rotated, bent through his knees and came up with a strike.

The motions exploded from there, blocking, striking, punching, kicking, striking motions that were designed to break, shatter, _destroy_ an opponent.

Throughout it, Harry's mind remained still, and his focus remained absolute. His inner focus remained on his body, how his inner energies flowed as he moved. He was close to an understanding – he just knew it. The book had intermediary forms detailed, advanced knowledge based upon understanding on how the body created, stored, moved, and converted energy, and he _wanted_ those.

As he continued his workout, the energy of motion flowed through his body, coming from his core body, exploding through his arms and legs before ramming into his hands and feet, and terminating into his invisible opponents.

He arrested in one sudden motion, breath discharging from his lungs, with one fist extended.

He kept his eyes closed, drew a new breath, and slowly stood up straight. Once more, he saluted, before moving into a rigid set, performing the motions on auto-pilot rather than shadow-fighting, feeling the energy settle down and flowing back and forth, going out to his extremities before cycling back to his core.

When his set finished, he burst back into motion, fighting, striking, invisible opponents.

For the next hour, he alternated between performing sets of pre-determined motions and shadow-fighting, before coming to a stop and performing a final salute.

Finally, he opened his eyes, and allowed his focus to drift away.

His heart was racing, and his shirt and pants stank with sweat. Drawing deep breaths, Harry attempting to still his heart.

He gave a final smile at the sun, now climbing higher into the sky and too bright to look at straight-on, turned, and walked inside. He needed a shower and a change of clothes before making some breakfast.

After making breakfast, and sharing it with Helios, Harry set out for a nice walk on Olympus. After the birthday party from yesterday, he was feeling high.

He had just exited the district where the ancient, abandoned, temples were located, and turned right to make his way to the market district, when he saw someone he knew.

The boy was a 17-year-old that looked a lot like Louis and the Guys. There was no hiding the power, or the sun-shine eyes, however, and Harry recognized him pretty much straight away.

"Hi Mister Apollo!" Harry greeted the Sun God.

The young-looking god pushed off the bench he'd been lounging on, and grinned at the boy. "Hello Harry," he said, coming over and affectionately ruffling Harry's ever-messy hair. "Just the boy I was looking for! Feeling okay after your big day yesterday?"

Harry grinned widely. "Yesterday was great!" he said enthusiastically. Suddenly, he realized what the god had said first, and asked, "Were you waiting long?"

Apollo smiled affectionally. "Sun God, Kiddo. I see everything the light touches. Well, when I want to – because it gets overwhelming quickly," he laughed. "I saw you leave, so I decided to meet you here."

"Whoa, that's so cool," Harry said, grinning widely. The Sun God seemed to puff up with pride.

Harry suddenly grew serious, and stepped closer to the god, as if they shared a secret.

"Are you alright, though, Mister Apollo? Hestia and Artie were really mad yesterday."

Apollo dimmed, and gave a wan sort of smile. "Artie was… yeah. Bruises and injuries heal, though, especially when you're the God of Healers. Aunt Hestia looked disappointedly at me. That cuts deeper."

Harry nodded; he'd much rather be fighting Mister Ares for days on end than have Hestia be disappointed in him, so he knew what the god was trying to say.

"What happened with the comic, though?" Harry asked. "I mean, that monster ripped that girl's clothes off. I was really shocked at that."

Apollo gave another wan smile. "Harry, when you get to be my age – that's over 4,600 years old, give or take – you don't always remember how quickly or how slowly mortals age. Apparently, you're a bit too young to appreciate that kind of comic. Puberty doesn't set in until later."

Harry nodded in confusion. "You seemed nervous when giving it to me, so you must have had some idea, right?" he asked.

Apollo gave a crooked kind of grin. "Honestly, I thought I could slip it to you without anyone noticing. I wasn't expecting public gift-giving. It's not something you give publicly, but it's something you 'slip in' when no-one's looking, you know?"

The boy nodded again, still somewhat confused. One thing he did note, though, was that he was _glad_ Apollo hadn't been able to slip it to him without anyone knowing. Now Hestia and Artie were there, and Hestia had been able to explain to him that was for adults and stuff.

"Do people really like that sort of thing? Monsters ripping girls' clothes off? I mean, seeing Mister Zeus with his tongue down that poor girl's throat is one thing. That's like kissing, which is disgusting, but plenty of people seem to like _that_."

Apollo laughed. "Once puberty sets in, Harry, you'll feel differently about kissing. And that adult comic, it's called a 'hentai', by the way, yeah, some people like that sort of thing."

Harry still looked confused, but nodded anyway. Plenty of people told him he'd 'get' it once puberty started, so he was prepared to wait. Suddenly, he thought of something. "Those monsters aren't real, aren't they? Because what that monster did to that poor girl…"

Apollo was quick to reassure him. "No, Harry, you needn't worry. It's pure fantasy. Nothing like that tentacle demon exists."

Harry sighed with relief. "Oh. That's good. Because I don't want any of my friends to run across one."

"Well, the boys would be safe, anyway," Apollo teased. Harry gave him a look that wasn't very kind, and the jovial Sun God just burst out laughing. Ruffling Harry's hair again, he said, "Don't worry, Harry. Pure fantasy, as I said."

Harry just nodded, keeping a dubious eye on Apollo. That comic had really confused him, and he wasn't sure he liked the feeling.

The God of the Sun gave Harry one last hair-ruffle, and said, "Don't worry about it, Kid. Nothing you won't figure out for yourself in a couple of years. Anyway, I have to fly. The Sun won't fly itself across the skies and all that."

The boy nodded, and smiled at the god. Apollo gave a wave, and vanished. For a few moments, he kept to his spot, staring at where Apollo had vanished from, trying to make sense of things.

Why had Apollo been waiting for him? He hadn't asked anything, and they'd just had a talk about yesterday and the comic and stuff. Maybe that was Apollo's intention all along? Or maybe that was his way of apologizing?

Finally, he sighed, and gave up. Time to hit the market, and see what fresh produce he could get his hands on for lunch or dinner.

He had just reached the market and starting his browsing of the various stalls and the wares they sold, when his shoulder was grabbed by a big hand and an iron grip.

A shot of adrenaline burst through Harry's veins, and he ducked his shoulder in an attempt to dislodge the appendage that had gripped him. When the hand would not release, panic surged higher and the young boy perfectly executed a rear-sweep-kick, attempting to force his assailant to release him.

Ares grinned, jumped over the kick, and yet held on to the boy's shoulder. "Nice try, Brat," the God of War barked with a laugh.

Harry's thumping heart eased up, glad that he had been accosted by one of his teachers. For a moment, he had been afraid it was the guards, ready to drag him before Mister Zeus before being kicked off Olympus – if he were lucky enough to get that far.

"Hi Mister Ares," Harry greeted, although he was sure his smile was a little sickly after that scare just now.

The God of War, seemingly able to read his mood, gave a ferocious grin. "Scared ya, didn't I?"

Harry forced his balled fists into his pockets, shrugged, and looked away. "Nah," he disagreed, even though the god had scared him quite badly.

Ares laughed again, knowing just how wrong that statement was. "I heard it was your birthday yesterday," the god changed the subject.

"Yes, it was," Harry said, smiling when he thought of yesterday. "Hestia arranged a surprise party for me! It was great!"

Ares' grin turned bloodthirsty. "Well, then, we need to do something about that," he said. "I don't do gifts, so I have a _surprise_ for you."

The young boy blinked, not sure what to make of that statement. Ares' surprises could be nasty.

"Thank you?" Harry ventured, hoping that was the correct response.

"You're welcome, Brat!" Ares crowed. "Come on."

Harry nodded agreeably, and followed the god to his car. A car that was, once again, in chariot form, with fire-breathing horses pulling it.

"Why they keep showing off for you, I don't get," Ares said, clicking his keyfob and turning the chariot back into a car. "I heard Hermes gave ya a ride in his car."

Harry nodded. "He took me on a tour of the US," the boy explained. He looked left and right, then leaned closer. "He taught me to drive, too. Even let me drive for a bit."

Ares roared with laughter. "How many did you wipe off the curb, Brat? Was it gory and messy?"

"I didn't hit anybody, or anything," Harry answered cooly, feeling rather offended that the bulky God of War would think him capable of hitting someone. Also, he was offended at the very thought of being a bad driver.

Ares slumped. "I'm disappointed. Perfect opportunity for some carnage, with an excuse to blame Hermes, and you didn't take it."

Harry opened his mouth to retort, then closed it when no retort came to mind. He just settled into the car, and was silent when Ares drove them off. Part of him wondered where they were going, a larger part of him dreaded what they would find at their destination.

They arrived next to a large lake, and Ares, in his usual curt fashion, ordered Harry to get out of the car. The God of War did the same, and the car seemed eager to leap up into the air and vanish.

"Cowards," Ares muttered with his hands in his pockets, scowling as he watched the car vanish. He turned to look at Harry, and the scowl turned bloodthirsty. "Anyway, Brat, we're here for some fun. See that lake?"

Harry, still dreading what the God of War had cooked up, and feeling a bit annoyed at all the secrecy, theatrically looked at the lake, back at Ares, and shook his head 'no' in an overly sarcastic fashion.

Ares burst out laughing and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "I knew you had a backbone in there somewhere!" he hollered. Still laughing, he turned the boy to face the lake.

"In there is the little surprise I have for you. Kill it, and it'll leave you your present."

Harry blinked. Ares brought him here to _hunt_ something? That's something he could have seen Artie pulling on him!

Harry nodded uncertainly. "What do I have to kill?" he asked, still studying the lake. He was a pretty decent swimmer now, thanks to Mister Poseidon teaching him, but he couldn't hold his breath for long. He hoped it wasn't some fish or something.

Are's bloodthirsty grin widened. "That would ruin the surprise. Just approach the lake. You can't miss it."

Harry had a _really bad_ feeling about this. Swallowing, he nodded, and made to step forward.

"Oh, hang on," Ares said. "Forgot to give you this." He threw a sheathed sword at the boy. "Use that for today. It'll help."

Harry caught the heavy sword-belt, scabbard, and sword combination and almost stumbled to the ground at the weight of them. They were sized for fully grown Gods of War with immense strength, not little mortal boys who had just turned nine.

He grunted, and wondered how those would be useful, when he felt them shrinking to his size and strength.

Grinning, Harry girded the sword-belt, settled the scabbard on his left hip, and drew the sword with his right hand. The sword was, for lack of a better word, perfect. It settled into his hand as if molded to it, its balance was exactly where he needed it to be. Its twin edges were razor sharp, and its tip was molded to perfection.

"Thanks, Mister Ares," he said.

"I expect that back, Brat," Ares said, waving the gratitude off. "Now go and get your birthday present."

Harry nodded, still somewhat hesitant, but drew a breath, clenched his hand on the sword's handle to draw strength from it, and approached the lake.

The monster that appeared from it had Harry gasping.

"I can't believe Mister Apollo lied to me like that! I am _so_ telling Hestia on him!" Harry snapped, suddenly angry.

The monster froze, not expecting that reaction, while Ares stared at the boy. "What?" he demanded.

Harry half-turned. "Mister Apollo said there were no tentacle demons." He pointed to the monster that had just emerged from the lake, and was staring at the two of them. "THAT looks like a tentacle demon!"

Ares burst out laughing again. "It's a _Hydra_, Brat. Those are necks and heads, not tentacles!" He laughed more. "I can't believe you called the Hydra a tentacle demon! Wait 'til I tell Sunspot!"

Harry muttered angrily under his breath and turned to face the nine-headed Hydra. "_If you try to rip my clothes off, I'm going to turn you into snakeskin leather,"_ he told the creature.

The Hydra sounded offended at the very notion, and protested vehemently. "_It speaks! / How does it speak? / We can eat you, mortal. / Or burn you / Or make you ill with disease! / But not molest you." _

Harry blinked when he understood the speech of the Hydra's nine heads, its speech moving from head to head. "_Thanks for that. I guess. I'd rather be eaten then have you rip my clothes off and do things to me. Mister Apollo had a dirty comic about that."_

The Hydra still looked offended. "_We are honorable, mortal! We will eat, crush, burn, poison, but _not _molest!/ It's beneath us!"_ One of the silent heads moved closer and seemed to be studying him from a distance. "_You're not much to look at, anyway. No scales, for one."_

Harry gaped at the head. The other eight heads studied the one that had spoken.

"_Something you want to tell the rest of us?" _the first head demanded of #8.

#8 seemed to shrug, if a head attached to a long neck could shrug. "_How long has it been since we've seen a nice Hydra to relax with?_"

The other eight heads looked at each other, as if thinking about it.

Harry looked at Ares, who was laughing his head off. "You speak parseltongue?" He demanded, seeing the boy look at him.

"I don't know what that means, Mister Ares." He pointed to the Hydra, where its heads were having a discussion on the merits of companionship. "But they're funny, and now they're arguing among themselves about how long it's been since they had another Hydra around." He thought for a moment, then added, "Oh, and that one seems to be a bit of a pervert, at least by Hydra standards," he added, pointing to head #8.

Ares burst out laughing again. "Only you, Brat, can be faced with a Hydra and have it turn on itself."

The nine Hydra heads, upon hearing this, looked at each other, and if ever there was a situation where a Hydra could blush, this certainly would have been it.

Embarrassed, the monster glared at Harry, and all nine heads snarled.

"I think you made it mad, Mister Ares," Harry offered.

The God of War roared with laughter once again. "It's YOUR monster, Brat. Are you ever going to fight it?"

Harry blinked. "By myself?"

Ares grinned, and Harry felt the familiar sensation of Ares' anger aura burn deep inside.

He swallowed, and turned to look at the Hydra. "_Yes!"_ the left-most head roared. "_Fight! / A Real fight! / Time for talk is over!"_

"Well, now it's excited," Harry muttered, drawing a breath. Suddenly, he was aware that Ares had vanished, leaving him here, and that the Hydra was _charging_, and that he _had no time to think_ and O_h Hestia that was a huge monster_ and he ducked underneath the first head trying to bit him, rolled forward underneath the monster's belly, and somehow managed to _keep rolling_ until he hit daylight on the other side.

The Hydra roared again, and turned around. Harry assumed it was quite limber for its size, but 40 tons of Hydra didn't turn as quickly as a nimble nine-year-old demigod did, and Harry pulled a spurt to get some distance and a chance to breathe and strategize.

Feeling something pull at his awareness, he breathed in deeply, in one instant banishing his nerves and freeing his mind.

His instincts pushed him, and Harry grinned. Throwing his jacket off, the young demigod emerged his bracers.

The Hydra had turned and stormed at him. One of the heads breathed at him, and Harry crossed his arms, letting the kinetic shield form, diverting the Hydra's poisonous breath around him while the boy held his breath.

The moment the breath attack stopped, Harry raced forward, aiming a strike with the indestructible bracers at the nearest head, hoping to stun it.

Unfortunately for him, while the bracers were indeed indestructible, and were able to aid him in his strikes, he was still only a nine-year-old demigod, and striking at a 2-ton Hydra head had about as much effect as trying to move a brick wall.

As his strike hit, Harry screamed as all the energy rebounded, throwing him away rather than stunning the head as he had planned.

Climbing to his feet, he managed to duck underneath a follow-up attack by yet another head, and raced underneath the Hydra's belly once more.

Sheathing his sword as it wasn't much use at the moment, Harry emerged Hestia's Lasso. If he could tie the thing up, maybe he had a chance!

The Hydra roared, one head snapping at him despite the bulky body still being mid-turn, and therefore falling woefully short.

_Dear Hestia, that thing's scary_, Harry thought as he lifted the lasso and started spinning it. _Please don't miss, please don't miss, please don't miss_, he prayed silently as he let loose with the mystical weapon.

The lasso's loop enlarged grotesquely, somehow managing to fall neatly over the roaring Hydra, before tightening suddenly, tying its four legs together. The monster, unable to move, toppled sideways, its nine heads roaring angrily, snapping and raging and breathing disease and venom.

"Thanks, Hestia," Harry said.

"_Cheating! Cheating! It cheats! Fight us honorably, demigod!"_ the heads raged.

"_Ehm, I did fight honorably. And I caught you,"_ Harry replied, hesitating slightly as he walked around the monster, making sure to keep the bulk of its body between him and the heads. The last thing he wanted was to get poisoned or eaten. Or anything else, considering what head #8 had said earlier.

Keeping one hand on the Lasso, Harry drew his sword. Carefully, he approached the monster. "It's heart should be around here," he muttered, aiming carefully.

He hesitated. Killing a monster in a fight was one thing. Killing it while it was help… well… _mostly_ helpless, was another.

"_Are you going to leave me if I release you?"_ Harry asked.

"_Die, mortal!"_ one of the heads raged, and Harry took that as a firm indication that no, the Hydra wasn't going to let him go.

Drawing a deep breath, Harry plunged the sword in the monster's heart, careful not to get any of the acidic blood on his hands. For a moment, he expected sizzling sounds and acrid smoke to signal the sword being attacked by the acid in the Hydra's blood. Instead, the monster raged for a moment, then screamed. Harry winced, he _hated_ fighting and inflicting pain. Then the Hydra fell silent.

He let out his breath, withdrew his sword, and flicked the blood off of it. The preternaturally sharp weapon shed all the Hydra's acidic blood with one swipe, and looked pristine. He sheathed it.

With a flick of his wrist, he untangled the lasso, and stepped away to take a good look at his kill.

The moment the lasso turned back into a ring, the monster raged up, all nine heads making for him.

"Eep," Harry managed, the only thought being that he was soon going to see Mister Hades, despite Hestia telling him he was too young.

The next moment, something had snapped him up, and dumped him a fair distance away. "What were you thinking, Brat?" Ares raged. "Hestia would have _my hide_ if you died here!" he pointed to the Hydra. "Now stop _trying_ to kill it and just _kill it_!"

"I… I… I..." Harry managed, his mind a muddles mess of stress, rage, fear, and a whole bunch of other emotions. "I killed it! Jammed my sword through its heart!"

Ares pinched the bridge of his nose, as if in physical pain. "What are they _teaching _demigods these days!?" he asked out loud. "You can't kill it by stabbing its heart, Brat!" he raged at Harry. "Cut off its heads! Oh, and only 8 of them. And you need to make sure they don't grow back. Use fire. Now _kill it_!"

"Eep," he managed again, before swallowing fearfully. Mister Ares was still really scary. Scarier than the Hydra, too, so Harry pulled his sword out of the scabbard, planted his feet, and stared at the Hydra, which had found him by now and was charging.

"Cut off its heads, cut off its heads, cut off its heads," Harry repeated to himself. As the first head struck, Harry dodged to one side, brought his sword up, and slashed it down.

The sword bit into the Hydra's neck, deeply. The monster roared, the head yanked upwards, away from Harry's slash.

The straight-edged sword stuck in the wound, Harry yelped as he was forced toe release it. For a moment, he watched, forlornly, as his weapon got pulled away by the raging Hydra head. The next moment, his instincts forced him to duck, as a second head struck at him.

It was a mass of instincts and adrenaline that allowed Harry to dodge backwards and forwards, from side to side, avoiding strike after strike after strike by eight enraged Hydra heads while the ninth one nursed the wound Harry had given it.

When the Hydra finally disengaged, giving him – and it – a chance to breathe, Harry managed a thought to how much he missed the sword.

The next moment, the sword appeared, as if by magic, right in front of him. He grabbed it, and grinned. If the sword could come back when he needed it, that would help!

He looked at the injured head; its wound, now devoid of sword, was rapidly closing, and Harry paled. He couldn't win this! He was too young for this!

The monstered eyed him, all nine heads staring at him. He could read it in those 9 sets of eyes. The Hydra knew he couldn't win this. He was going to end up in Mister Hades' care, whether he or Hestia wanted it or not.

He swallowed, then took a stance, feet shoulder-width apart, both hands on the sword's handle. _Just one head,_ he told himself. _I just need to strike off one head. _

The Hydra charged again, nine heads reaching for him. _Use Fire,_ Ares had said. Easier said than done. He had no fuel for fire.

He dodged the first head, then the second, then the third. It was almost like a dance, but Harry let his instincts take over while his mind pondered the issue.

_Animal fat burns. Animal fat is fuel_. A grin started to form on his lips. _And Hestia taught me how to ignite any fuel._

He ducked underneath the strike of one of the heads, and reached out with Hestia's skill.

The head screamed in agony as it burst into bright red-and-yellow flames, and the monster's other head roared in rage. The next head that came into range got the same treatment, and the Hydra pulled back, eyeing him wearily, two of its heads burning.

Harry winced as the heat made the eyes pop, the two necks falling to the ground, useless, their ends burnt and blackened.

"_I hate hurting things, please let me go,"_ Harry told the 7-headed Hydra.

The seven heads eyed him with wrath. "_Die mortal/ Die / Die / Die!"_

Harry sighed dejectedly. The Hydra charged again, and Harry met the charge straight on, reaching with Hestia's fire-inducing ability to the fat in each of the Hydra's heads that came too close.

Two more heads burnt, but then he yelped when one head burst through the fire and smoke, coming straight at him while his focus lie elsewhere.

His instincts allowed him to bring his bracers together, detonating their stored kinetic energy into a blast-wave that forced the monster back.

"That was close," the boy panted. "Sheesh, they don't give up." He dropped to one knee, finally registering that he was covered in ash and soot and sweat, and that he was bleeding from many scrapes and wounds that he had picked up during the fight. Igniting a Hydra's head was a lot tougher than igniting a piece of wood, and Harry felt drained.

He'd gotten four heads. Four of the nine. Or eight, Ares had said to only take eight heads for some reason. He eyed the burning five-headed Hydra wearily, the monster studying him just as carefully.

Suddenly, the huge monster charged again. Harry grit his teeth, and prepared to meet the charge.

He managed to ignite the first head that came near him, but the flames were smaller than normal, and blinding pain exploded behind Harry's eyes. Tears filled his vision at the pain, yet somehow he managed to slash to his right, catching the second Hydra's head on the cheek and managing to cut it.

As the head recoiled, Harry had the presence of mind to angle the sword correctly so it would cut itself free rather than get stuck like last time, and he eyed the retreating head with suspicion.

Suddenly, the slowly burning head he had ignited just now slammed into his left side. Thanks to Hestia's gift he was nearly immune to fire, and just felt the heat of it; however, he was still being hit by _two tons of rampaging Hydra Head_, and was sent flying because of simple, elementary physics.

Last time a head sent him flying, he had been able to angle his descent and land without serious injury. This time, his mind was in pain with over-using Hestia's gift, and his body was exhausted, so he screwed up the landing.

The crack in his ankle cause a flare of pain, and Harry failed to suppress his scream.

The Hydra turned with all of the agility of a dump trunk filled with rocks, and eyed him. Five heads were either burning, or had been burnt completely, four heads remained.

Those remaining heads knew they had him. they'd heard his ankle snap. they'd heard him scream. They were in no rush; they had him, and they knew it.

Harry knew it, too.

He grunted, and got to his feet. Foot. If he was going to meet Mister Hades today, he was going to do it with his head held high.

He raised his sword in his right hand, and held up his left arm, hand balled into a fist, using the bracer as a shield. "Come on, then!" he screamed at the Hydra, refusing to cower.

The Hydra gave a very Hydra-like grin, and charged. Harry raised his sword higher.

Suddenly, something picked him up, and held him under one arm. He looked up, and found that Ares had tucked him under his left arm, and was now swinging a huge bastard sword with his right hand – a bastard sword that was _also on fire_, and was cutting off Hydra heads with it left and right, cauterizing the wounds as it went.

Suddenly, the monster faltered, tried to flee, but Ares let out a bloodthirsty whoop and jumped after it.

Harry, still underneath the God of War's arm, refused to shout or scream. The god landed, and chopping off head number eight, which caused the monster to fail completely, fall over, and slowly dissolve into gold dust.

"Five heads by yourself. Not bad, Brat," Ares said, dumping Harry. "Piece of advice. When a monster plays possum, it won't turn into dust." He pointed to the dissolving monster. "A dead monster dissolves, and you get a spoil."

The bulky God of War walked over, and picked up two phials. "Hydra Acid Blood and Hydra Venom," he said, putting the two phials carefully into Harry's pocket. "Happy birthday, Brat."

"Thanks," Harry said, sarcastically. "I could have done without the near death experience."

Ares burst out laughing. "It's not fun unless your life's on the line!" he shouted exuberantly, before grinning down at the injured boy. "Also, the final moment? Facing death with a 'come and get me' attitude? That was exactly the kind of badassery I like to see."

The God of War leaned down to the boy, and handed him a chunk of Ambrosia. "That'll take the edge off."

"Thanks, Mister Ares," Harry muttered, biting into the chunk of godly food. His ankle was _killing _him. He didn't know if the ambrosia would be enough. He hoped it would be, he didn't want to explain this situation to Hestia.

Ares grinned, and slapping the boy on the shoulder, the shock of which translated through his body and sent another shot of pain through his nerves. Harry grit his teeth and bore it.

"Come on, brat. Enough resting time. Time to get back to Olympus," Ares stated, standing up, and whistling loudly. The chariot descended from the skies, once more in chariot form pulled by flaming horses.

Ares rubbed his forehead.

Harry hobbled up, and started limping towards the chariot while the God of War muttered to himself about his horses showing off. As Harry limped past, one of them nudged him.

Harry grinned at it, tiredly and in pain. "I'll survive."

The fiery horse nudged him again.

"What the…?" Ares said, suddenly _right there_. "They're not supposed to like _anyone_. Why the hell…?"

Harry limped to the chariot. "Maybe it was Hestia's gift," he said. "Can we go back to Olympus now? My ankle's killing me."

The God of War clicked his keyfob, turning the chariot back into a car, and dumped himself behind the wheel. Harry let out a breath of relief, thankful that he would be able to sit down in a car, rather than remain standing in an old-time chariot.

Ares dropped him off in front of the temple, and drove off without as much as a second look. Harry was rather glad for it, the pain in his ankle was making it hard to keep a clear mind. He just wanted to drop in bed, and sleep. Suddenly, he noticed the sword on his hip blurring and vanishing. The God of War had taken the weapon back, apparently.

Limping inside, he felt Helios' warm presence wrap around him in concern, and for a moment, he stood still, eyes closed, drawing in the warmth of the sensation.

"Mister Ares," Harry finally told Helios' presence, about the only explanation he felt comfortable given at the moment. From the feel of the faded god's presence, it was enough. Another comfortable hug-like sensation drifted over him, and Harry gave a tired smile.

"I'm just going to go to bed," he told Helios' statue, and limped inside. The Ambrosia had closed a lot of his wounds, and had taken a large bite out of the pain, but he still wasn't able to put any sort of weight on his right foot.

Slowly, he limped through the living area, making his way, slowly, yet determined, to his sleeping area, when the hearth seemed to register his presence. He felt, somehow, the fire recognize him, right before it flared and Hestia stepped out.

"Harry, where have…" she started to say before actually seeing the state he was in. "What happened to you?" she asked, suddenly sounding worried.

"Ehm…" Harry whispered, not really sure what he could say. "Eh… I…"

"You're hurt!" she said, louder, making him flinch. He didn't like yelling at the best of times, and hearing Hestia yell counted doubly so. "I'm calling Apollo." Suddenly, she was in her adult form, and picked him up, gently, tenderly, and carried him to his bedroom.

The next moment, he was dressed in his pajamas, and his clothes were cleaned and folded on top of his dresser. Just as sudden, he found himself in his bed, under the covers, with Hestia seated on the edge of his bed, in her adult form, holding one of his hands. "Can you tell me what happened?" she asked. "Who did this to you?"

"Ehm," Harry managed again. The sudden shifts hadn't done his exhausted mind any good, and he was still trying to process how he went from fully dressed in adult-Hestia's arms, to being dressed in sleepwear and in his bed.

Gently, she squeezed his hand. "I am not angry at you, Harry," she assured him. "But I would like to know who did this to you."

The next moment, a yell was heard from the courtyard area. "Someone asked for a house call from a most handsome healer?"

"In here, Apollo," Hestia said. The distraction of the Sun God gave Harry time to think, and he had never been more grateful to Apollo than he was right then.

The Sun God strode into the bedroom as if he owned it, took one look at Harry, glanced at Adult-form Hestia, then looked back at Harry and winced. "That looks painful, kiddo. Let's take care of that," he said, sitting down on the other side of the bed, and placing one glowing hand on Harry's chest.

"Thank you, Apollo," Hestia said, before looking down at Harry. "Now, can you tell me who did this?" she asked once again.

"Hydra," Harry muttered.

"A _Hydra_?" Apollo asked, loudly, aghast. Hestia coughed delicately. The Sun God seemed to shrink. "Sorry, Aunt Hestia."

Hestia smiled at him. "I am as surprised as you are, Apollo. Let's not scare Harry by yelling, shall we?"

"Of course, Aunt Hestia," Apollo said. The healing glow was sinking into Harry's body, taking away all the pain, and making him a bit loopy.

"How did a Hydra find its way onto Olympus?" Hestia asked Harry. "We should find it and destroy it before it hurts anyone else."

"Ehm…" Harry muttered again, not wanting to rat out Ares, but not seeing a way around it.

"Harry?" Hestia asked again, gently. "What happened?"

Harry sighed. "Mister Ares said he had a surprise for my birthday, but that he didn't do presents, so he took me to this lake…" the boy said, trailing off.

"_Ares_ put you in front of a Hydra?" Hestia asked. Suddenly, the room felt warm. Harry wanted to shrink back.

"Ehm… yes?" he asked.

"You were able to survive, that's very impressive, kiddo," Apollo said, with a rather sickly looking smile. "Hydras kill most grown heroes that go against them. How did you get away?"

Hestia gave a look that screamed _this isn't the time to debate such things_.

"I tied it up with Hestia's lasso and jammed the sword Mister Ares gave me through its heart. But it didn't die and pretended only, then it came after me when I untied the lasso. It tried to kill me, and then I figured out that Hestia's gift lets me set fire to things that burn… so I started burning its heads as animal fat burns."

Apollo gaped at him. "You _defeated_ it?"

Hestia looked like she couldn't decide between being proud and being scared out of her mind, and kept silent.

"I burnt 5 heads, and then I just… ran dry, I suppose. It hurt, and suddenly I couldn't move very well, and then it threw me, and I busted my ankle and it was about to kill me so I told it to just came and get me because I wasn't going to go beg it for me life, you know? And then Mister Ares saved me, chopped off the rest of the heads and gave me the spoils."

Apollo pinched his nose with his free hand.

"You were about _to die_," Hestia stated flatly.

"But Mister Ares saved me?" Harry offered, trying to save Ares from at least _some_ of Hestia's ire. Not that he didn't deserve it, in Harry's opinion.

"Harry," Hestia said, slowly. "Why didn't you call for help? From myself, or even from Artie?"

Harry blinked. Truth be told… he hadn't even thought about it. "Ehm… I… don't know?" he asked. "I didn't even think about it, I think… it's hard to think right around Mister Ares, and when he puts you in front of a huge monster with 9 heads, and you have to run for your life…"

"I see," Hestia said. "I can understand that." She leaned in close, and hugged him. "I'm glad you did well, as Apollo said, the Hydra is one of the strongest monsters out there. In the future, I want you to call me. Or Artie. I'm sure she'd help out if she can."

Harry nodded shyly.

"Good." She stood up. "Thanks for seeing to Harry, Apollo. If you'll both excuse me? I seem to have an _urgent_ meeting."

She didn't even bother to walk out, and just disappeared into a burst of fire.

Harry looked at Apollo. "I think Mister Ares is in deep trouble," he said, not knowing whether it was something worth smiling about or not. Ares had brought him a lot of pain, but on the other hand, he'd learnt some new tricks, and now he had the spoils from one of the deadliest monsters out there.

"I think he's in deeper than just trouble, Harry," Apollo replied with a grin. "I haven't seen Aunt Hestia that angry in quite a while."

Harry nodded. His ankle was no longer hurting, and the lack of pain suddenly made his exhaustion far more pronounced.

"Did you really tell it to 'come and get you'?" Apollo asked, suddenly curious.

Harry just nodded.

"That was really brave," the God of the Sun said. "Not a lot of people have the guts to go out like that."

Harry smiled weakly. "It's easier to be brave when you know Mister Hades, and know that you're going to end up okay even when you're dead."

The blond god nodded thoughtfully. "There's something to be said about that," he admitted. "Still, points for style, Kiddo." He lifted his hands from Harry's chest. "There, good as new, even if you'll be sore for a day or two," Apollo said with a grin. "Try not to tangle with any more Hydras for a while, alright?"

Harry gave the Sun God a tired grin. "I'll try not to. Once was enough."

Apollo gave the tired demigod a wave, and stepped out of the room before a flash of light took him away. Harry closed his eyes and immediately fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, he slept in. His body, although healed in a minor part by Ambrosia and in a major part by Apollo, still needed time to recover. When he opened his eyes, it was nearing noon, the sun shining high in the sky.

He stumbled out of bed, his body feeling incredibly stiff. His every movement pulled muscles that complained, and Harry grimaced as he made his way to the bathroom. A hot shower later, he felt more awake, although his body still hurt.

He saw the noonday sun through the back window and smiled at it. "Thanks, Mister Apollo," he said out loud. He was sure that he wouldn't even be able to stumble around if it hadn't been for the amicable god's healing touch.

He shuffled into the living area, and stopped. What he smelled was… mouth-watering.

"Hello Harry," Hestia said, smiling in that heart-warming way of hers. She was back in her preferred child-form, and slipped him a hug the moment she could. The warmth of her aura infused his aching body.

"I have had a small chat with Ares last night, and he will not be repeating that trick. If he tries, I want you to call for me, alright?" the Goddess of the Home said, her smile still warm, but a hint of fiery power hid behind it.

"Alright, Hestia," Harry said. "That smells wonderful," he added, changing the subject.

Her smile widened, and showed him that she knew exactly what he was doing, but didn't mind going along with it. "I made you some of your favorite dishes," she said. "I am of the firm opinion that people heal better when eating the food they love."

The young boy smiled, and hugged his all-time favorite goddess. "Thanks, Hestia," he whispered in her shoulder. She just patted his back and smiled at him, as she usually did.

He didn't get much done that day; not that he would be able to even if he wanted to. His body ached, his joints creaked, his muscles cramped, and all he could do was sit on the comfortable couches and stare at the fire in the hearth, letting his mind wander.

The next morning, he felt better. He was still a little stiff, but he had regained most of his range of motion, and wasn't shuffling around like an old man. He was even able to sneak into the kitchen and learn a few more of Hestia's tricks as she cooked. The Goddess of the Home didn't seem to mind, and appeared to be enjoying the fact that he was getting back to normal.

He didn't get much done that day either, and spent most of his time relaxing. During the afternoon, while soaking the hot springs, he heard a 'ding'.

Blinking, he looked to one side, and found an ornate envelope, the address line scribbled in elegant cursive Ancient Greek. Glad that he was able to read it without hurting his eyes or his head, Harry peeled open the envelope.

Inside was an equally ornately inscribed invitation – an invitation to a 'Mathematical Study of Statistical Probability Analysis' held by Lord Bai Hu, the White Tiger, the Western Wind, of the Chinese pantheon in his Celestial Palace, one week hence.

Harry shook his head, while resisting the urge to laugh out loud. Sometimes, gods could be outright silly. He loved it when they were. Silly gods made him laugh. It was when gods became serious that you had to be careful and pay attention. Silly gods were fun, serious gods were scary.

The next week was a calm one for Harry. While he got scolded by Athena during their next session, she did walk him through the encounter and helped him come up with some new tactics, mostly involving conserving his energy and not inviting an enemy to strike him down when things got tough.

That last one made Harry pout. Athena had been unaffected and had continued to lecture him.

By the time the 'study of statistical probability analysis' came around, Harry was giddy with excitement. He had liked Triton, and Thor, and Bai, and had immensely enjoyed learning to play poker and mahjong.

The fire finally pinged at his awareness, showing where he needed to go. Picking up the box of chocolate-chip cookies he had baked for his godly friends, Harry traveled through the fire to Bai Hu's Celestial Palace.

He hadn't given it a second thought when the invitation read 'Celestial Palace', so when Harry found that he had to _push_ to get through the fire to his destination, he was incredibly surprised.

He actually had to draw in a deep breath when he materialized on the other end, and found that his heart rate had leapt up. He had arrived in a large open room, constructed out of sandstone, with large open windows that looked out over vast plains. While not visible, Harry heard the tinkling of fountains through those open windows, and he immediately felt relaxed.

"Well, that answers that," Bai said to himself as he stood up from a bar on the other side of the room. "Welcome to the Celestial Plane. You're probably the first mortal who came here without their mother."

Harry blinked. "Hello Bai," he answered, politely. "What do you mean?"

Bai grinned, and motioned for Harry to take a seat at the bar. "This is the Celestial Plane, kid. Like Mount Olympus, but… bigger. There are rules for traveling here, one of them is that young children can only travel here when accompanied by their mother. The fact you got here by yourself is… surprising."

Harry nodded in understanding. There were rules about getting up on Olympus, too. "Hestia said that, as long as she lives, nothing will prevent me from going through the fire."

Bai laughed. "You've made one hell of an ally, kid. That's one hell of a boon."

The boy grinned. "When Mister Hermes, Mister Triton, and Thor get here, I should tell you the story of what Mister Ares did for my birthday. You'll love it."

"Now you've made me curious," the Eastern God said, just as Hermes teleported in.

"I see I was beaten to the punch," the Greek God replied, as he sat down without being invited, and grabbed himself a cookie from the box without asking.

"Hello, Mister Hermes," Harry said, politely, not saying anything about the cookie. That was what he had made them for.

"Rude," Bai commented.

"God of thieves," Hermes answered with a grin. "What made you curious?"

Thor arrived in a shower of light in all the colors of the rainbow. Bai and Hermes stared at the Norse God with blank expressions.

"Hello, Thor!" Harry piped up while the other two gods kept staring at the latest arrival.

"Hello, Young Harry!" Thor boomed. He looked at the other two, then glanced curiously at himself. "What has you two so upset?"

"Using the Bifrost Bridge to get here? Really?" Bai asked, flatly.

Thor laughed again. "Merely showing our young mortal guest how to travel in style," he answered easily, taking a seat at the bar after Bai waved him on.

At that time, Triton ported in without fanfare or lightshow, and got an enthusiastic greeting from Harry.

"Bai was about to tell us what has got him curious," Hermes tattled easily after the Messenger of the Seas had taken a seat. "Now he has _me_ curious about what has made _him_ curious."

"Harry explained he had a tale to tell us about a Hydra," Bai explained, pointing to the young mortal, who had offered the box of cookies around to the gods.

"Mister Ares decided on giving me a surprise for my birthday," Harry said, telling the tale, ending with, "… so I expected the die, right? I mean, my ribs were hurting, I was out of breath, my head was hurting so much I saw two hydras instead of one, and my ankle was broken. So I stand up straight and tell the thing to come and get me. If I was going to go, I was going to go with my head up, you know?"

The four gods listened in silence, before Thor boomed with laughter. "Obviously you survived, my young friend! What happened?"

"I… eh… had totally forgotten Mister Ares was still around, so he came, tucked me under one arm, and killed it in like two strokes of a flaming sword."

"Once again, a tale of bravery and wit!" Thor laughed loudly, slapping Harry on the shoulder hard enough to bruise. "Obviously, you healed up well."

Harry nodded. "Hestia called Mister Apollo. And after I explained what happened, she went to have a chat with Mister Ares."

The four gods laughed. "I wouldn't want to be on Aunt Hestia's wrong side," Hermes said, the first to recover. "While kind, gentle, and supportive, she is more than capable of turning her words on the target of her ire."

Harry nodded. "Part of me feels bad for Mister Ares," he admitted. "Then I recall him throwing me at a Hydra, and I realize that part of me is really small."

The quartet of gods laughed again.

A small flash of light drew their eyes, as a goddess teleported in. She was statuesque, with brown hair and brown eyes.

"Hello, Tyche," Hermes said with a grin.

"Father," Tyche greeted him. "Lord Triton, Lord Bai, Lord Thor." she nodded deeper at Bai. "Lord Bai, thank you for inviting me." she smiled, and Harry found that he liked her smile. "For obvious reasons, I do not get invited to many events like these."

"Be welcome, Tyche," Bai said, as if it were some kind of ritualistic greeting. "Obviously you know my immortal companions." he pointed to Harry, who had been half-obscured by Thor's rugged body. "This is the mortal who took our lunch money last time-"

Tyche looked at him, her face suddenly drawn with surprise. The next moment, she shrunk some, her hair turned red and her eyes green. The same sort of green that Harry saw in the mirror _every day_.

"What..." he started to say, when he was interrupted by the suddenly-changing goddess.

"Harry? Why are you not in Britain?" she asked, in total surprise.

The next moment, a light seemed to go off above his head, causing him to look up. A bright golden cornucopia shone for a moment, before fading.

"I knew he was too good at games," Hermes muttered as Tyche approached Harry.

"Mom?" the boy whispered, stunned.


	14. Chapter 14

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 14**

When the goddess Tyche changed before his eyes, taking on a form that he had become so familiar with these last few days, Harry's brain locked up. Ever since Miss Hera had given him that picture, ever since he had first laid eyes upon his mother and father, Harry had spent more than a few hours staring at it, memorizing each and ever detail.

He was vaguely aware of a light shining above his head, and he had thrown a routine look at it, before it faded out and he stared again at the now-familiar goddess.

"Mom?" he asked, his voice as small as a little boy. A little boy who had missed his mother terribly.

Tyche, now a redhead with green eyes, gave him a tiny smile. "Yes, Harry."

her voice was familiar, too. He didn't consciously recall having ever heard it, but his subconscious definitely remembered it from his early childhood.

Two emotions raged to the surface as Harry continued to stare at her. The first was elation; _he had found his mother! His mother wasn't dead!_

The second emotion was dark, and sinister. It was _anger_. Why had she not come for him? Why had she abandoned him? _What was wrong with him that she didn't want him!?_

"Mom?" he asked again, his mind a muddled mess of confusing emotions.

"Yes, Harry," Tyche repeated, although her smile was a little apprehensive. "It's me."

Finally realizing that he had to _do_ something, Harry managed to stand up from the stool he was still perched on. The four gods kept quiet, eyes going from the mortal boy to his newly-revealed mother, and back again. None of them wanted to intrude upon this moment.

"Why?" he managed to croak.

She blinked. "Why what?" she asked, confused.

The elation over finding his mother was subsumed into the anger of her vanishing on him, and playing coy about it.

"Why did you abandon me?" he asked, trying to stop his hands from balling into fists.

Tyche sighed, her shoulders dropped, and she looked sad. "Harry," she said, then hesitated. Like any goddess, she was about to repeat the Ancient Laws, about her being unable to take care of him – but in the end, the aspect of herself that had been Harry's mother realized that rules weren't what he needed to hear at that point.

"You're my son, and I love you," she finally said. What he needed was reassurance, so that is what she gave him.

Harry hiccuped. He'd longed to her those words for so long. Something within him broke, and all the anger, the fear, the jumbled mess of emotions shattered and drained away.

He had his arms around her and was crying against her chest before he knew what had happened. Her arms encircled him, and she gently rocked him back and forth. "I'm here, Harry. I'm here," she whispered.

She looked up at a curious sound from the bar. Hermes was glaring at Triton while rubbing his arm. Obviously her father had been about to make some crude remark, and the Messenger of the Seas had stopped him. She gave Triton an honest, grateful smile, and turned her focus back on Harry.

When he finally did calm down, he looked up at her, his eyes red and puffy. "Why _didn't_ you come for me, Mom?"

She smiled faintly. "There are Ancient Laws that prohibit gods from taking care of their own children," she started to explain, but stopped when Harry's face twisted.

"Now I know why Luke is mad at Mister Hermes," he said, softly. "That rule sucks."

"Yes, it does," she agreed. "Also, you have to keep in mind that you're not a regular demigod, Harry," Tyche explained softly. "I aspected myself. You're the son of a mortal woman called Lily Potter, who just so happened to be an aspect of myself. When she died, she rejoined with me. Those memories were… traumatic. She's part of me, just like I was part of her, but I'm _not_ completely 'Lily' any more than she was completely 'me'."

Harry just nodded, relishing in the chance to remain snuggled against his mother.

The four male gods, meanwhile, shared a look, and at a head motion of Bai, made their way to the large table and started a game of poker. This wasn't a conversation for their ears.

"I'm glad that I found you, though," the Goddess of Fortune said. "I'm surprised you're here, but I'm still glad I found you."

"Now I know," Harry whispered. "Now I know who you are."

Tyche smiled faintly, while patting his back. "Yes, Harry, yes, you do. How did you get here, by the way?"

Harry pulled back slightly so he could look her in the face, and smiled softly. "I did some work for Mister Hermes, and he invited me to his last Maths Party. His friends seemed to like having me there, so I got invited to this one by Bai."

Tyche suddenly looked slightly panicked, and glanced at the Eastern God, who appeared firmly focused on his cards. "Harry, you may want to be more polite when in the company of greater gods," she said, faintly.

The boy frowned slightly, and stepped back so her could more easily see her. "Why?" he asked, surprised. "Bai and Thor are awesome, and Mister Triton and Mister Hermes are cool."

Bai laughed and elbowed Thor. "Hear that, Thor? We're awesome!"

Thor laughed in response. "The boy has good taste," he roared.

Hermes grinned. "Yes, he does," the Messenger God said, sharing a smile with Triton. "After all, we're 'cool'."

Harry smiled as well, enjoying the sight of the four gods having fun over a game of cards. He looked back at Tyche, who seemed rather pale.

"It's cool, Mom. We're friends."

"Friends with major deities," Tyche whispered, as if she couldn't believe it.

"They're great," Harry confirmed with a nod of his head. "And they have cool stories!"

"As do you, young Harry!" Thor interjected. "You should tell the one about saving Athena's girl, that's always a nice one to break the ice!"

"That one almost killed me and put me in the infirmary," Harry complained. "I don't think Mom would like to hear that one."

The Goddess of Fortune blinked, snapped out of her shock, and sent Harry a _look_ that he had seen on Hestia's face on occasion. "Yes, I do think that I do need to hear this story."

Harry looked uncomfortable. "Wouldn't you rather hear how I ended up squatting on Mount Olympus? That one's a more funny story."

"Oh, a new story!" Thor said. "Join us, Harry, that is one we haven't heard yet."

"Sure!" Harry chirped. He started going to the table, but then remembered his cookies. Taking the box off the bar counter, he sat it down on the table before easily plumping himself down in a chair next to the bulky Norse god. "Come on, Mom!" he invited, waving to the empty chairs dotted around the table. "I've got cookies! Made them myself this afternoon, too."

The Goddess of Fortune hesitated for a moment, before seating herself next to her father. She took a cookie, before the other gods were able to run off with all of them, and bit into it.

"This is great!" she exclaimed. "You made these yourself?" she asked in confirmation.

Harry nodded. "Hestia's a great teacher!" he replied, biting into a treat of his own.

"She definitely seems so," Tyche agreed hesitatingly.

Thor passed the cards to Harry. The boy took them, and without looking at them, started to shuffle them with an expertise that usually came from professional dealers at a casino. Tyche looked proud of her son's ability, but kept quiet.

Still without looking at them, Harry dealt the cards. "So I was in New York, and I hadn't eaten in a couple of days so I was at the point where you're so hungry you don't feel hungry anymore, you know?" he began his tale.

"One moment," Tyche interrupted. "Why were you in New York, and why were you starving?" she asked. Her tone sounded measured, carefully neutral, kinda-sorta like how Hestia's tone was when he told her about Ares' 'surprise'. It was odd how his mom and Hestia could both show so much menace in speaking softly.

"Ehm…" Harry said, picking up his cards and looking at them. "So I was living with the Dursleys-"

Tyche, who had reluctantly picked up her cards, put them down again. "Who put you with _THEM?_" she demanded angrily, almost-but-not-quite coming out of her chair before settling back down. "Why weren't you with Sirius?" she added, just as angrily.

Harry flinched, and seemed to shrink in his chair. He hated it when people yelled, even if it wasn't at him. "I don't know who put me with the Dursleys," he said, quietly. "I don't know anyone named Sirius, though. Who's he?" he asked, confused.

"Sirius Black. Your godfather," the goddess snapped.

Harry flinched again, and shuffled his chair a bit closer to Thor. "I have a godfather?" he asked, weakly.

Tyche sighed through her nose, still angry. "Never mind. Go on with your story," she told him.

Harry sighed as well. He didn't like it when people told him what to do at the best of times. His mother ordering him about he liked even less. This wasn't going the way he had fantasized about so often. In his imagination, his mother was like Hestia, kind, supportive, helpful, and while making suggestions and asking him to do things, she would never _ever_ order him about.

"Why don't you know all this?" Harry asked Tyche, suddenly belligerent. "I mean, you're a goddess, you should be able to see all of this, right?"

The Goddess of Fortune winced, anger replaced with something else. She drew a breath, and let it out, then tried again. "Harry," she said, gently, "I am just a minor goddess. Goddess of Fortune. My sight is… limited. If you had walked into a place where my influence is strong, I would have seen you, yes. Like a bookie's office, or a casino, or a stock exchange. I could have seen you in the entirety of Las Vegas, that entire city is practically dedicated to my domain, but anywhere else, I am extremely limited. So no – I didn't see you. I couldn't. And the Ancient Laws prevent me from actually coming down to meet you."

Harry just nodded, accepting that answer.

"So I was living with the Dursleys," he repeated, a bit morosely, keeping an eye on his mother in case she interrupted him again. "They didn't like me much. On a business trip to New York, Uncle Vernon decided he wanted to get rid of me, so he offered 100 dollars for my passport. I took the money. It didn't last long. So I managed to get myself a blanket to sleep under, and until trash day came, I had plenty of food. But then trash day came, and the skips were empty."

"You were eating out of-" Tyche started, again coming halfway out of her chair, looking really, exceedingly, angry.

Harry nodded weakly, and shifted, yet again, a bit closer to Thor. The God of Thunder grinned at the boy and winked at him, and suddenly he felt calmer, more reassured. Thor was on his side, that was good.

"So I hadn't eaten in a few days," Harry repeated himself. "And then I came across the Empire State building. Something inside of me told me to wait. So I waited for an hour or two, you know? And then I felt the urge to go in, and I did."

"There was just one guard, and he was busy with someone, so I got into the waiting area and hid myself behind a magazine. Then the guard took the visitor to the lifts, and something told me to get ready, so I dropped the magazine and paid close attention. The guard went into one of the lifts, did something, and then someone came out of another lift and started arguing with the guard and the visitor – so I jumped up, got into the lift myself, and pushed the big red shiny button that said '600' - that's how I got onto Olympus."

The four major gods laughed, while Tyche shook her head, staring at Harry with a look that was part amusement and part pride.

Harry then told the rest of the story, how he found Helios' abandoned temple, struck a deal with him, and met Hestia.

Tyche shook her head again. "You have the strongest gift of any of my children," she finally said. "All my children are good with cards or games of chance, but what you have, Harry, is an ability to full-on manipulate probability of coming events."

The young boy blinked. "I have siblings?" he asked, focusing on the important part.

Tyche smiled weakly. "Yes and no. You are the son of an aspect of me – while Lily Potter is part of me, I am more than she is. So yes, my other children could be considered your half-siblings in some ways, but not in others."

"Oh," Harry muttered, feeling disappointed.

"Don't worry, Harry," Hermes said with a grin. "With Tyche being my daughter, that means you're my grandson, and I'm sure that my children will be more than happy to play aunt and uncle to you."

Harry shot the God of Thieves a grin. "That could be fun. I've never had real family."

Tyche seemed upset at that, and ready to interject something, when she let out an angry breath and calmed herself.

"And seeing how much Aphrodite liked you, you should know that she's your grandmother – although you may not want to call her that. So her children could be your aunts and uncles, too."

Harry grinned widely. "I so have to tell Silena. She'll laugh. And then she'll make a joke about telling me to clean my room or something."

"Oh? And who's Silena?" Tyche asked, suddenly teasing. "A girlfriend?"

Harry looked at her in confusion, not liking the insinuation that his mother was making. "She's my friend who's a girl, yes," he answered. "She's a daughter of Aphrodite, and loves Pegasi. She's funny, too. Her and Annabeth are good friends, even if they don't want to admit it out loud. Annabeth's a daughter of Athena, by the way," he supplied before his mother could ask. "There are Louis and the Guys, too, but they're older. They're sons of Apollo, and _really_ funny."

Tyche just nodded, looking a bit sad about not knowing anything about her son's life.

"And no love lost for Luke?" Hermes asked, smiling.

"I think Luke and Thalia are too busy with each other," Harry answer, honestly. "I don't think they like me much, despite me pulling them to camp. Maybe they're upset because a kid saved them or something."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Hermes muttered quietly.

"Well, that's been an emotional rollercoaster," Bai interjected. "Let's play a few rounds, for real. It'll take our minds off things and let emotions settle."

The various deities nodded, and gold started appearing. Harry just shrugged, pulled out his bag, and took from it the exact amount of gold, in various denominations and styles, that he had won the last time they played.

"Whoa, Kid, you didn't spend a single coin, did you?" Triton asked, staring at the stacks of gold.

Harry shook his head. "Hestia's taking good care of me, I have food, drink, clothes, and Mister Helios' Temple is nice and warm. Hestia gives me a bit of spending money that I use to buy special foods if I want them, so what would I spend gold on?" he asked, as he picked up the cards that had been dealt by Hermes.

"Toys?" Bai asked.

"Never had any," Harry answered calmly as he studied his cards, discarded two, and accepted two new ones in their place. "Mister Hephaestus gave me a Meccano set for my birthday, I'm still trying to figure out what to make with it."

Tyche looked upset again, the four male gods gave him a rather pitying look, but the game continued.

"So Lady Hestia has been taking care of you ever since?" Tyche asked after they had all placed their bets.

Harry nodded. "She's was also my first teacher, she taught me reading and writing and maths and such. And when I wanted to know more, she found me people who would teach me more. Like Artie. She's great."

Tyche looked at the male gods, most of which looked confused, but Hermes was grinning. "Ask him who Artie is, Tyche," the Messenger God encouraged.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Artie's the Goddess of the Moon, of Hunting, and of girls. Everyone's scared of her, but I don't get why."

"Because she's bloody scary, maybe?" Hermes offered.

Tyche thumped his arm. "No swearing in front of my boy, please Father," she told the Messenger god. She turned to Harry, and went on to say, "I hope you show her the proper respect, Harry. Lady Artemis is a powerful major goddess, I wouldn't want you to get on her wrong side."

The boy put down his cards. "Flush," he declared. "Artie's awesome. She has a few weird things that she gets angry about, but as long as you avoid those, she's awesome. Her Lieutenant's great, too. Miss Zoë taught me a lot of things."

The various male gods groaned at the sight of the cards. Tyche smiled faintly. "Full House. Sorry, Harry."

"Now you know why Tyche doesn't get invited to poker games," Hermes teased as gold shifted hands.

Harry shrugged. "I don't use the gold anyway," he answered as the deck changed hands and Bai started shuffling.

"So how did Father find out about you living on Olympus?" Tyche asked as the cards were being dealt. "From the story so far, you were hiding."

"Oh, I got found out," Harry explained as he picked up his cards.

"That sounds like another fun story to share," Thor encouraged.

Harry focused on his cards, feeling his instincts warn him. He glanced at his mother, then back at his cards. "Fold," he said, ignoring her pout. "So I was upholding my end of the bargain with Mister Helios, and cleaning his temple, when suddenly some guards barged in..." Harry started his story.

00000

"So that's how I got to stay," Harry finished his tale. "Hestia's awesome."

The male gods were laughing, in Hermes' case again, at the story.

"Did you _really_ accuse Zeus, King of the Greek Gods, of cheating? In front of his wife?" Bai asked, his tone making it clear he was just angling for a repeat and not accusing Harry of anything.

Harry nodded, then crossed his arms. "He had his tongue down that poor nymph's throat. It was disgusting. I don't get why he did it, either. Miss Hera's a lot prettier."

Tyche, in contrast, just stared at her son, in shock, unable to believe that _her son_ had been mouthy with the King of her pantheon. And had survived. And was on first-name basis with a lot of the major gods. She was just a minor goddess, there was nothing she could do to protect him, and by the sound of it, it was too late to try now.

"She's cool, too," Harry went on. "Miss Hera told me that you and dad loved each other," he told his mother, "and that you loved me. And she showed up to my birthday with a picture of you and dad. That was awesome."

Tyche gaped. "Queen Hera. Queen of the Gods. Who hates demigods. Gave you a gift on your birthday," she said, chocking every other word.

"Miss Hera's nice. I don't get why people are so afraid of her," the boy said, resolutely.

"You may… want to be careful… around Hera, Harry," Hermes said. "She can be unpredictable."

Harry shrugged, not really understanding.

"Full House," Tyche announced, raking in more gold.

"You may want to relieve your mother of some of that money, Harry," Thor laughed, patting the boy on the shoulder.

Harry pouted. "Mom's better at it than I am," he answered. "I can feel it when the cards are being dealt."

"Your gift is that strong?" Tyche asked.

"You talked about that before," Harry said. "My gift. What does it mean?"

"I am the Goddess of Fortune," Tyche explained as Thor shuffled and dealt. "That means I am responsible for people having good fortune, and bad fortune. Most of it runs automatically, so I'm not aware of it, but my domain involves me making sure that fortune remains in balance – some people have more good luck, some people have more bad luck, but it averages out." She picked up her cards and studied them.

"So some people have as much bad luck as other people had good luck?" Harry asked, studying his own cards, cocking his head, and discarding one.

"Exactly," Tyche explained. "Most of my children just have a gift to tap into Fortune. Some of them flip a coin and behave based on the results, letting Fortune guide their actions. But you, Harry, you have a gift strong enough to allow you to manipulate events based around the probability of them happening. Like when you managed to sneak onto Olympus. The odds of you doing that successfully were-" she trailed off and thought for a second, "about 1,476,812 to one. And yet, you were able to predict the steps required and execute them at precisely the moment you had to, in order to be successful."

"But I've also had bad luck," Harry said, somewhat getting it. "I mean, I rescued Annabeth and nearly got myself killed because of it."

"And that, young man, is another story I will need to hear," Tyche said, sternly. "However, to answer your question, Fortune needs balance. Good fortune and bad. It averages out between regular mortals, but for you, who are able to manipulate events, it balances out for you, personally."

Harry nodded. "But I was able to get onto Olympus, and that didn't have any bad luck associated with it. I mean, it's been the best thing that ever happened to me. I have a home now, and Hestia's just brilliant."

Tyche sighed, and looked part pissed off, part incredibly sad. "Harry," she said, slowly, "A childhood is a most precious thing, and losing it is awful. Your time with… my aspects's sister… and her oaf of a husband… counts as misfortune."

"Oh," Harry whispered, subdued. "So I have a tank of Good Luck I can tap in to," he finally said, after thinking about it for a second.

"Basically," Tyche said. "Now, what was this about saving Annabeth and getting hurt?"

00000

"So I pass through the fire at Camp Half-blood, see Hestia, and basically collapse. I woke up in the infirmary the next day with Annabeth there. That's when Hestia gave me her Lasso," Harry said, putting his cards down. "Flush."

"Lady Hestia gave you her Lasso? The Lasso of truth?" Tyche asked in wonder, putting her cards down, face-down.

"I will never tire of hearing that story," Thor said with a laugh, doing the same.

Bai and Triton did the same, and Harry grinned as gold shifted hands. Somehow, he had started getting a 'feel' for his mother's influence, and had started trying out ways to circumvent it.

"Yeah, take her lunch money!" Bai cheered as Harry expertly, with deft fingers, added the gold to his various stacks of currency. Tyche pouted at the Eastern God, but he ignored her.

"Well done, Harry," she told her son. "Now, what else happened in your life? I recall hearing something about a demigod half-brother of mine called Luke?"

Harry in turn pouted at her. "Maybe someone else wants to tell a story? I don't want to spend the entire evening talking about myself."

"But I just found you!" Tyche complained. "Even if it is on an entirely separate divine plane run by a completely different pantheon so it's not – technically – in violation of the Ancient Laws."

"Let's give the boy a chance to recover, shall we?" Thor said, grinning widely and clapping Harry on the nearest shoulder. "I recall this one time my brother Loki and I had a bit too much to drink and decided on borrowing my father's eight-legged horse, Sleipnir..."

Harry grinned. Getting drunk was usually the start to the best of Thor's stories!

00000

"-and that was why we weren't welcome in Alfheim for a couple of decades, and why I'm not allowed to ride Sleipnir anymore," Thor finished, leaving the table in stitches. "Three of a kind," he added, putting his cards down.

Harry stared at him for a moment, then put his cards down. "I had two pair," he announced.

"Straight," Triton said with a grin, displaying his cards for all to see.

Bai threw his cards down. "I had garbage," he said, waving his hand at the pot as if to say 'begone with you'.

"Two pair, fives," Hermes said as well, dropping his cards. "Which isn't even as good as Harry's two pair of sevens."

They all looked at Tyche, who seemed to be surprised at something. "Two pair of sixes," she finally announced. "Ha-rry?" she sing-songed. "What did you do?"

Harry gave a weak smile. "Beat you?" he said and-or asked. "Mom?" he added in an effort to play on her heart strings.

She burst out laughing. "You walked the edge of probability where you would get a better hand than me, but forgot to check that it would also be the _winning_ hand," she finally said, still giggling.

The other gods burst out laughing as well. "Be careful, Kid, some could consider that cheating," Bai said with a snicker.

Harry pouted as the gods laughed again. Finally, he pointed at his mother. He still couldn't believe it – _his mother_. Sure, she was different from what he had imagined her to be, but she was _his mother_.

The sensation just hit him, and it took more than a few seconds to get himself back together. Everyone was staring at him, pointing at Tyche, not saying anything.

"Kid? You okay?" Bai asked.

Harry blinked. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. It just hit me that I've found my mom, you know?"

The male gods nodded, suddenly all of them thinking of their own mothers. Tyche's eyes seemed suspiciously moist, but she seemed to be determined not to show emotion.

"Anyway," Harry said, refocusing them all. "If I'm the one cheating, then what is the Goddess of Fortune doing?"

Thor rubbed his chin. "That is a good question."

Bai nodded. "A very good question."

Triton seemed to agree. "I forgot what happened to the last person who came to this table and cheated."

Hermes raised his hands. "She's my daughter, I abstain."

Tyche pouted at him, then paled when the three remaining male gods stared at her.

Harry seemed to realize that his little joke was having unintended consequences, and looked from one god to the next. "Guys, please stop picking on my mom. It's not nice. I just found her, I'd like to keep her for a bit."

The Goddess of Fortune blanched at how easily _her son_ was trying to _command_ three major gods of different pantheons. She opened her mouth to try and apologize, when Bai grinned.

"Sure, Kid. She's the Goddess of Fortune, after all. She can't help it," the Eastern god said with a teasing smile.

"True enough," Thor agreed.

"I think we cursed the last cheater with various plagues and diseases," Triton said, seemingly off in his own world. Suddenly realizing the topic of conversation had shifted, he blinked and refocused. "Did I miss anything?"

Bai, Thor, and Hermes laughed. Harry just smiled, and explained to the Messenger of the Seas what had happened. Tyche just looked pale.

00000

"That's when the husband she neglected to tell me about came home," Bai said, laughing. "Unfortunately, he was completely mortal so I couldn't use my godly powers to defend myself – needless to say, 'running' was involved."

Thor laughed the loudest of them all, although Hermes and Triton was laughing too. Tyche looked upset at the subject matter of the story, while Harry was frowning, trying to figure out the moralities involved.

"Oh, and three of a kind," the Eastern god added, putting his cards on the table.

Thor, Hermes, and Triton frowned and put their cards down. Harry looked at Tyche. Tyche looked at Harry.

"Straight," Tyche finally said, showing her hand.

Harry grinned. "Flush. Sorry, mom." As he raked in the loot, the male gods gave the Goddess of Fortune some friendly ribbing for losing to her son. She didn't seem to mind all that much, which made Harry suspicious about her throwing the game. He eyed her surreptitiously.

00000

"- that's when I realized that the comic wasn't about fighting demons, but about demons that ripped the clothes off of poor girls and doing _things_ to them. Hestia suddenly grew to her full adult form, grabs Mister Apollo by his ear with her right hand, takes the comic out of my hand with her left, and says, 'that's for adults, Harry. Now excuse me while I have a chat with my nephew', and drags Mister Apollo out by his ear. He was yelping all the way, it was pretty funny," Harry told. "Then Artie gets up, turns to adult form, and says she would like a chat with her brother as well."

The gods laughed, while Tyche had that _look_ again, that look that said she didn't know whether to laugh or be upset.

"I don't know whether to be more scared of Aunt Hestia or of Artemis," Hermes said, still chuckling.

"That ties in to what happened the next day," Harry said with a grin. "So I see Mister Apollo the next day, and we have this talk about what happened. Apparently, he misjudged my puberty or something, he said I'd 'get' it when I'm a little older. Anyway, he said Artie was really upset with him, but wounds heal. Hestia was disappointed in him, and that hurt more."

The gods laughed again, and even Tyche seemed to be smiling now. "I agree with Mister Apollo," Harry added, still smiling faintly. "Hestia's the bestest, kindest, sweetest goddess ever. I don't want her disappointed in me either."

The various gods grinned, while Tyche pouted. "What about your dear old mom?" the Goddess of Fortune asked.

Harry blinked and looked at her. He opened his mouth to snap a retort, then swallowed it. He knew that saying _I didn't even know you before today _wouldn't go over well.

His face twisted slightly, and he was about to snap a different answer, but swallowed that, too. _Hestia's taken better care of me than you ever did_ wouldn't go over well, either.

Screw this, he needed a break before he said something he'd regret.

Stiffly, he stood up. "Bai? Could you tell me where the restroom is?"

Bai's face softened for a moment. "Sure Kid," he said, walking Harry to the door.

Right outside that door, two impressive young people in military uniform seemed to standing guard. One was female, one was male, but they both appeared be half-european.

"Number 99," he said to the girl. "Show Harry the bathroom, will you?"

"Sure thing, Dad," the girl said. "This way, Harry."

He gave Bai a shaky sort of smile, and tried to give his guide a friendly smile. It may not have come out right.

As they walked through the hall, the girl glanced at him. "Are you alright?" she asked. "You look a little pale."

Harry felt his insides clench. "I just found out that my mom didn't die when I was one."

"That's good, right?" the girl offered.

"She still vanished, and my dad _did_ die."

"Ouch."

"She also didn't keep tabs on me, didn't even let me know she was still alive until I found out just now."

"Double ouch."

"And now she wants to act like my mother, despite her not being around since I was one. And wants me to choose her over the kind, sweet, gentle goddess that _has _been taking care of me."

"Triple ouch," the girl said. "I can see why you're upset."

Harry nodded shakily, then looked up at his guide. "Are you _really_ called 99?"

The girl smothered a laugh. "Dad is very _yang_. He has hundreds of wives, and many hundreds of children. He's immortal, we're not, so we keep dying on him – so he just gives us a number, he claims that it makes it less painful when we do die. Don't let that fool you, though – he loves every one of us, and he's still incredibly upset if something happens to us. So, whatever makes the old man feel better, right?"

Harry nodded, never having though about immortality in that way. It started to sound like a curse.

"My name's Sophie, if you prefer," '99' said. "You could probably tell, Dave and I have an American mom. Which is probably why he chose us to play guard tonight, considering our English is a lot better than most of dad's other children."

Harry smiled faintly. That sounded like something Bai would do. "I really like your dad. He's awesome."

Sophie grinned. "Learning you're a half Shen is a shock, but I have to admit that Dad does really care for all of us. And I agree with you, he's pretty fun to be around and to hang out with. If you can catch him – he's pretty busy."

"Half Shen?" Harry asked, not knowing the term.

"Dad's a Shen, a 'god', as you'd say. My other's mortal, so I'm half Shen," Sophie explained.

"A demigod," Harry said with a nod.

"In your terms, yes," the girl said. "Here's the bathroom. Take your time, I'll be right here to guide you back."

"Thanks, Sophie," Harry muttered and fled inside.

00000

"What was that about?" Tyche wondered out loud when Bai returned.

The four men glanced at each other. Finally, Triton turned to the Goddess of Fortune. "Tyche, Harry has pretty much been raised by Hestia this last year and a half. He probably sees her more as his mother than you," he stated, blandly.

Tyche looked like she was swallowing an angry sort of retort, unwilling to simply shout at a major god.

"He also doesn't do well with authority," Hermes added, putting a gentle hand on his daughter's arm. "Aunt Hestia was the first to show him kindness, and he's incredibly attached to her. You can't blame him; his life before he met her is one clusterfuck after another."

Tyche's eyes glowed. "Yes, and I will be having a discussion with various persons regarding that."

"And that's another thing," the God of Messengers went on. "You pretty much admitted to leaving him in the UK without checking in on him. Leaving him to his _horrible_ life in the UK."

"But…!" the goddess started to complain. Hermes held up a hand.

"I know you're limited. We all know our limits. But Harry is a nine-year-old mortal. All he knows is that his life got turned around when Aunt Hestia started helping him, and he just found out that his mother didn't – or couldn't – check in on him until he was right in front of her nose. A mother that now basically asked him to choose _her_ over the goddess that has been, for all intents and purposes, his _mother_ for the last 18 months."

"It would be hard for anyone to accept," Thor said, about as gently as the boisterous God of Thunder ever could be. "You can't blame the lad for getting upset."

Tyche seemed to shrink in on herself. "I still remember holding him, before my aspect was killed," she muttered. "It's hard to realize that he doesn't remember me, doesn't know me, and doesn't even _need_ me."

"Go carefully," Triton counseled. "Get to know the lad. He's honest, and caring. He's doing his best to emulate Hestia in all aspects – he'll forgive you. It may take him a while, those wounds are deep and heal hard."

"True," Hermes added. "I don't think I've ever seen a mortal do his best to keep up with Aunt Hestia as much as Harry does." He smiled faintly. "I don't think I've ever seen Aunt Hestia take to a mortal like she has to Harry, either."

"I'm grateful that Lady Hestia took care of him," Tyche whispered. "But he's my son, still."

Hermes smiled faintly. "You'll have to be happy with taking second or third place in Harry's life, I'm afraid," he said. "As far as he's concerned, Aunt Hestia's the best goddess ever, period. He's even said so in front of the entire Olympian council. Better, he's pretty much said to Artemis' face that she's his _second_ favorite goddess."

Tyche blanched slightly. "And Lady Artemis did not strike him down for the insult?" she wondered. "I mean… telling a major goddess that she's second best? Really?"

Hermes laughed. "The boy is so open and honest that there's no subterfuge. If he says Artemis is his second favorite goddess, then he _means_ that she's his second _favorite_. Artemis basically confirmed that, if ever she wanted to come in second, it would be after Aunt Hestia and that was that."

"I have a lot to learn about my son", Tyche whispered, sadly.

"And you will," Triton confirmed. "Just give the boy some time, and accept the fact that, for now, he looks to Hestia for guidance and assistance. I would counsel that you try and become his friend first, rather than try and usurp Hestia's place in his heart."

"And fail," Bai said, bluntly. When the other gods looked at him with disapproval, he huffed. "What? It's the truth. Every other words from his mouth is 'Hestia this' or 'Hestia that'. If he were older, I'd say he's in love with her. As it is now? I think you're all right and that he sees her as a mother figure – a mother figure he doesn't remember having."

Tyche flinched.

"Bai, blunt much?" Thor asked, although his lips tugged into a smile showing that he didn't care all that much.

Bai shrugged. "I like the kid, and it's the truth. The sooner we can get it through _her_ skull, the better. I didn't like the way the kid looked earlier. Hopefully 99 can cheer him up a bit, she's good at that."

The male gods sighed, with Triton shaking his head.

"You know you have too many kids when you start giving them numbers," Thor teased. Bai made a rude hand-motion, which broke some of the tension and caused laughs at the table.

Harry, hesitatingly, opened the door and slipped inside. Seeing them laughing relaxed him, and with a relived smile he approached the table.

"Sorry about that," he offered the assorted deities. He looked at Bai, and added, "Sophie was nice to talk to. Thanks, Bai."

The Eastern god shot the others a superior look, then grinned at Harry. "Liked 99, did you? Be careful, boy – I'm protective over my brats."

Harry, who was about to slip back into his seat next to Thor, looked at Bai for a moment. "Pervert," he accused.

Tyche turned deathly pale, and already had her mouth open to shout a desperate apology to try and spare her son the wrath of a powerful deity, when Bai grinned.

"Guilty," he announced without shame. "I'm yang. It's my nature. Can't help it, so I may as well own it."

Harry laughed and sat down.

Thor slapped the deck in front of Harry. "Deal," he told the boy with a grin.

"Sure," Harry agreed with a grin, fingers already cutting the deck and starting a riffle. "Anyway, something else happened on my birthday," he said when his fingers started dealing out cards. "I don't know if it was Mister Dionysus, but I suspect it was. He seemed… happy… at my party."

"Oh? What happened?" Thor asked, even as Bai, Hermes, and Triton leaned in while Tyche sighed in resignation.

"For some reason, I'm able to perfectly know the details of any alcoholic beverage with one sip," the boy said as he looked at his cards.

Thor and Hermes laughed, Triton grinned, and Tyche rubbed her forehead. Bai, on the other hand, got up and walked to the bar. "That needs testing," he declared, returning with a glass filled with half a finger of slightly clear liquid that had a yellowish shine to it.

"Identify," he told Harry with a challenging grin.

"My Lord, please!" Tyche said.

"It's just one drink, mom," Harry countered, taking a sniff, before shrugging and draining the liquor in one gulp. He looked at Bai, who seemed impressed that Harry wasn't choking. "It's _Zhuyeqing jiu_, from Shanxi province in China," he told the god.

"That's one hell of an ability, Kid," Bai said, sounding impressed.

"I think it was Mister Dionysus having a laugh, but I figure it'll be a great party trick one day when people stop complaining about me drinking," he replied with a cheeky grin towards his mother. A mother who was now glaring at him.

"Oh, calm down, Tyche," Hermes said, patting her arm. "It's just one drink."

"He's too young," she stated coolly.

Harry remained quiet. His first instinct was to throw Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon under the bus, but he reconsidered it when he recalled how his mother had the tendency to yell.

Focusing back on the game, the boy instead asked if anyone wanted to change any cards. Better play a few rounds and let tempers cool.

00000

"So Xuan Wu and I were standing victorious, surrounded by fallen bodies, blood soaking the ground to the point we're ankle-deep in bloody mud, when I look at him and say 'when the minister asks 'if anyone objects, come forth now', that's part of the ritual, not an invitation'," Bai said, laughing.

The entire table erupted in laughter.

"Full House," Harry announced. The various gods grumbled good-naturedly. He eyed his mother, who also threw down her cards. Was she throwing the game? He couldn't be sure, his instincts didn't seem to work on her. He kept quiet.

00000

"So this group of mortal troublemakers start making a nuisance of themselves on Lake Tritonis, my home," Triton "How they got their vessel from the _sea_ to my _lake_ I'll never know, but they made such a nuisance of themselves that I open passage for them and… er… gently… assist them back to the sea."

"That was surprisingly nice of you," Thor teased with a grin.

"I later found out that those mortal troublemakers were a band of merry men following a chap called 'Jason' on his quest for the gulden Fleece," Triton said, causing Harry, Tyche, and Hermes, who recognized the sale of Jason and the Argonauts, to burst into laughter. After explaining the famous voyage to Thor and Bai, the two foreign gods laughed as well.

"Anyway, three of a kind," Triton announced, putting his card down.

Thor threw his cards down, as did Hermes. "Straight!" Bai announced happily.

Harry waited and eyed his mother. He was going to let _her_ drop her cards first. Tyche grinned at her son. "Full House."

The boy studied her cards; a Full House of three 4s and two 5s. He put his own cards down. "Full house, 9s and 10s," he announced with a grin, shoveling in his loot.

"Better luck than the Goddess of Fortune," Bai said with admiration.

With a grin at the goddess in question, Hermes said, "better be careful or your son is going to take your place, Tyche."

She took the ribbing with good nature, and winked at Harry. "My son is merely following in his mother's footsteps, that's all," she announced.

"Cheating poor, unsuspecting gods out of their lunch money?" Thor asked with a laugh.

"Poor unsuspecting gods?" Harry asked, theatrically looking left and right. "Where? All I can see is a bunch of gods that knew exactly who they're playing cards with?"

Tyche snorted and tried to act as if she didn't laugh. Hermes was the first to break and laughed heartily. While Triton just smiled widely, Bai and Thor laughed along with the Messenger God.

00000

"So Miss Circe said she couldn't train me in magic," Harry said. "Hestia thinks that she may have been using this enchantment as an excuse, but who knows?" He looked at his mother, and asked, "just what enchantment did you put on me, mom? It impressed both the Goddess of Magic and her daughter, apparently."

Tyche smiled somewhat crookedly. "Well, Harry… you have to understand… even if she was my mortal, aspected, form, Lily did have access to some of my abilities. Let's say that even a mildly talented amateur can produce a legend with a bit of luck and leave it at that?"

Harry just stared at her. "So you _lucked_ into an enchantment that locks my magic and kept monsters from finding me?"

Tyche frowned. "No," she said. "I _lucked_, so to speak, into an enchantment that used your magic to power a protection on the same level as being dunked in the river Styx, except there was no weak spot. Other than using up your magic, that is. And it being limited in time before it would become too unstable and break."

"Huh," Harry said. "Miss Circe did say something messed with it, making it really fragile. Apparently, it's now keeping monsters from finding me, but it no longer makes me invulnerable."

Tyche growled something low in her throat. It sounded like 'dumb door', but Harry wasn't sure as she growled really low.

She drew a breath and seemed to compose herself.

"Tyche?" Hermes asked.

The goddess blinked and looked at her father. "I think I have something I need to take care of," she said, giving a rather forced smile to the other gods. "Please excuse me, My Lords, but I think I have something that I need to take care of _right now_."

Bai grinned, recognizing the look on her face. "Sure," he said with a waving hand motion. "Gods are always busy, aren't they?"

"Indeed, My Lord," Tyche said, still smiling something crookedly. She rounded the table, grabbed Harry, and put a kiss on his forehead. "Don't stay up too late, harry," she told him.

"Ew! Mom!" the boy screamed. "That's disgusting!"

She just laughed, and vanished.

"I wonder what that was about," he said, looking at the place his mother had vanished from.

"Harry, take it from someone older and wiser," Hermes said. "Women are nuts."

Bai and Thor exploded in laughter, while Triton gave Hermes a stare. "You can't tell him that, Hermes!" he protested.

"Truth hurts," Hermes said sanctimoniously, nose in the air.

The Messenger of the Seas sighed and looked at the young boy. "Harry, don't believe him. Women aren't nuts. They're just different from men, that's all. And while Hermes may have meant it as a joke, women don't find it at all funny." The god gave Hermes another look, before turning back to Harry. "In fact, some women will get upset if you say that."

Harry nodded slowly. "Alright, Mister Triton. Thanks for explaining that."

"Grow a funny bone, Triton," Hermes complaining with a grin.

Triton shot back, equally amused, "stop trying to corrupt our young guest. Hestia won't appreciate it."

Hermes blanched slightly. "I… hadn't thought of that," he admitted.

They all had a good laugh at the God of Thieves' reaction.

Still somewhat laughing at the pouting God of Thieves, Triton focused on Harry. "In any case, are you alright, Harry? That revelation must have come as quite the shock."

"Yes. No. Maybe?" Harry said, starting to nod, then shook his head, and finally shrugged.

Thor put one of his bag hands on Harry's shoulder. "Perhaps you should go home and take some time to sort things out," he suggested.

Harry looked dubious about that suggestion. "But I like playing with you guys," he protested.

Bai grinned. "We'll be around, Kid. Don't worry."

"We didn't even get to play Mahjong," he muttered.

Bai laughed. "I knew you'd like that. Real men play with tiles, right Harry?"

"You should've said that when Tyche was here. Her reaction would be hilarious," Hermes said, grinning.

"Please don't pick on my mom," Harry muttered.

"She's my daughter, I'll pick on her whenever I like," Hermes declared, still grinning.

Harry just nodded for a moment, then decided that he really should go home. He needed a Hestia Hug. "I _should _go home," he finally said. "Sorry about hijacking the game like that."

"Meh, it's not the first time personal business followed someone to the table," Thor said, waving it off. "Besides, now we know where your incredible luck is coming from."

"We'll need to keep an eye on you next time," Bai said with a mock-threatening shake of his fist. "Or you'll take all our lunch money. Again."

Harry laughed softly. "Thanks, guys. You're all awesome."

"We know," Hermes said, preening, causing the rest to have a good chuckle.

Harry waved his goodbyes, and fire-raveled back to Helios' Temple, where he immediately fell onto the nearest couch.

He desperately needed a hug from his all-time favorite goddess, and he wondered whether he should call her or not.

She was, after all, a goddess, and she had duties, and calling her for something so minor… it felt like a waste of her time, and he didn't want her angry with him for disturbing her when it wasn't really important.

He buried his face in his hands. He still wanted that Hestia Hug.

The fire flashed gently, and he felt the warmth of it wash over him.

"You came home early," Hestia said, sounding slightly worried. "And I find you with her head in your hands. What happened?"

Harry didn't – couldn't – answer; his heart clenched with the myriad of emotions that he had kept bottled up, paralyzing his throat. Instead, he made a desperate grab for Hestia, and clung to her for dear life.

"Dear oh dear," Hestia whispered, hugging him back. "It will be alright, Harry," she said softly as she held him. "I'm here. Everything will be fine."

He still couldn't speak, and just clenched harder at her warm, supportive, _safe_ presence… and started to sob. Now that he had started, he seemingly couldn't stop, tears continuously leaking from his eyes into Hestia's supportive shoulder.

"Oh dear," Hestia whispered again, continuing to simply hold him. "I'm here, Harry. I'm here," she said again. She didn't stop him or interrupt him, and just continued to support him and allow him to drain the emotions that were plaguing him.

Finally, _finally_, he felt like he could compose himself. "Sorry," he whispered, face still buried in her shoulder.

"Whatever for?" Hestia asked, gently, rubbing circles on his back.

"For… you know," he said, very softly. "Crying on your shoulder," he finished, even softer.

"Never apologize for needing comfort, Harry," the Goddess of the Home answered. "You obviously had something happen," she added, hoping that he would be able and willing to speak of whatever happened.

"I found out that Tyche's my mom," he whispered. "And I called her mom and she let me, but I don't feel it, not really, because I don't know her, not really, and she kept trying to give me orders and tried to make me choose her over you and it's all such a mess," he rambled in one breath.

Hestia just hugged him a little tighter. "No wonder you're upset," she said, softly, gently. "A demigod meeting their godly parent for the first time can be quite traumatic, especially in a case such as yours," she offered.

Harry nodded. "She didn't even know I wasn't in Britain, and stuff. She never even checked. Even if she said that she couldn't."

"It's possible that she couldn't," Hestia offered. "As Goddess of Fortune, her sight is tied to places that involve chance, a racetrack, a betting office, a casino."

"That's what she said," Harry muttered. "But if she's my mom, why didn't she check anyway? She could have just walked down the street!"

Hestia sighed. "Tyche is a minor goddess, Harry. Her powers are limited. Yes, she could have taken mortal form and walked down the street – but without knowing which street to walk down, she would have had a hard time finding you."

Harry sighed. "I guess," he said, somewhat morosely. "I just… she's my mom, but I didn't really _feel_ like she's my mom. And she kept trying to act like my mom, but it just annoyed me."

Hestia hugged him a little tighter. "You don't know Tyche," she said. "She, or the aspect of her, rather, disappeared from your life when you were one. You don't know her, and she doesn't know you. Give her a chance to get to know you, Harry. You may find that you like her."

"But she wanted me to choose her over you. Sure, it was like a joke, but I just got so mad over it, you know? You've been taking care of me for the last year and a half. You're everything I ever hoped for when I was alone in my cupboard, and Tyche just wanted me to choose her over you."

"Oh, Harry," the Goddess of the Home whispered. "She's your mother. Please, give her a chance to get to know you, and allow yourself the chance to get to know her. Who knows, maybe you _will_ like her more after a while."

"I doubt it," Harry refused, finally slipping out of her arms and looking at Hestia rather than at her shoulder. "I'll never choose anyone over you. You're the best goddess ever."

The humble Goddess of the Hearth gave a small shake of her head. "You're still saying that?"

Harry crossed his arms. "I'll keep saying it for as long as it's the truth," he stated, calmly.

Hestia just offered him a warm smile. "Remember what I said, though, Harry. Please, give Tyche a chance to get to know you. It's not going to come overnight, but get to know each other. As hard as it sounds, your mother is a part of her, and you may find that you like her."

The boy just nodded. While he was upset with her, he didn't want to _lose_ her either, so giving her another chance as Hestia asked wasn't a hardship. He hoped that, like Hestia said, he'd learn to like her better. He wanted to.

Hestia patted his back. "Come on, let's bake some cookies. That will make you feel better."

Harry grinned tremulously at her. "Baking cookies with you always does," he answered.

**AN: I was on vacation from work, hence the rapid pace for posting this chapter. From here on, we're back to the slower pace - sorry about that.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 15**

**AN: this will be a shorter chapter than usual. A lot of people have been asking me about Tyche's reactions to all of this – and so this chapter is a kind of interlude, focused on her. There will likely be very little of Harry in this chapter.**

**Because of this shift in focus, it'll also be a bit darker than the rest of the story, as it's not from Harry's friendly and optimistic outlook.**

**Finally – sorry about the delay. I fell ill and was unable to write for some time.**

Tyche, still red-haired and green-eyed, angrily stalked up the path leading to a nearby temple. With her hands balled, she breathed furiously through her nose as her legs ate up the distance.

When she finally reached the doors, her right fist pounded the door twice. Her left fist knocked once. _Bom-bom-tok. _She repeated the pattern obnoxiously, not even listening for a response. _Bom-bom-tok_. _Bom-bom-tok. Bom-bom-tok._

The door was yanked open, a furious goddess preventing Tyche from repeating her obnoxious knock once more.

"What?" the angry goddess demanded, golden eyes staring at the Goddess of Fortune.

"Nemmie, I need your help," Tyche said, pushing past the goddess and striding deeper into her temple.

Nemesis, Goddess of Retribution, of Vengeance, of Balance, and of Justice, frowned as she followed the angry path taken by Tyche. "What the… ?" she managed out before her visitor had already planted herself into a nice couch. Not a very good couch, nor a very bad couch. It was neither too hard or too soft. It was precisely balanced, as befitting furniture in the temple of the Goddess of Balance.

Nemesis strode in after her abrupt and impolite visitor, crossed her arms, and stared angrily at her for a moment. "Tyche?" she finally asked, relaxing slightly. "That's a new look for you."

Tyche looked down, and realized she was still in her 'Lily Potter' shape. Within moments, she had turned back to her regular look, slightly taller, brunette, with brown eyes. "Sorry, Nemmie. I need your help."

"Is that a way to ask someone for help?" the angry goddess asked, sitting down in front of her colleague. The two goddesses often worked together to maintain the balance of fortune, and they knew each other well, but this was new.

"I just found out that my _son_. _My. Son. _Has been screwed over. I need your help to get back at the perpetrators," the goddess of fortune said. "When my aspect died, I expected him to be raised by his godfather, to be taught and loved and given a happy childhood. Instead I find out my son has no knowledge of a godfather, the Styx-level protection I put on him has been tampered with, and he was given to my aspect's _sister_ and her _oaf_ for abuse. They abandoned him in New York when he was 7. It was sheer and utter luck that he found his way onto Olympus and into Lady Hestia's warm and welcoming arms. And yes, I am aware of the irony of stating that."

Nemesis stared at the goddess she had the closest relationship with. "Balance is a major part of my domain. While Vengeance is, too, Balance must be maintained," she said.

Tyche nodded. "I am going to interrogate the bastard I believe is responsible for taking away my Harry's childhood. While I can royally wreck his fortune for the foreseeable future, my powers are… random. He may trip over a rock and get a bruised toe, or he may trip over a rock and break his neck. I need your… finesse. I want to humble the man."

Nemesis was quiet and studied Tyche for a few moments. "Balance is always required," she repeated. "What will you offer in exchange?"

Tyche grinned at Nemesis. "Nemmie, I'm asking you to be invisible and ride my shoulder. If the conversation goes the way I think it will go, you'll agree with me that the man in question has too much power, too much influence, too many positions, and that he could stand to lose some."

Nemesis started to grin. "A powerful, influential, man with hubris that has abused said power and influence? Oh Tyche, you know the way into my cold, black, heart. If what you say is true."

Tyche nodded. "I am asking you to witness a conversation between myself and the man in question. If he is innocent, no harm done, I will need to hunt for other culpable people. If my assumptions are true, however, you'll agree with me that the man will deserve it."

The Goddess of Vengeance sat quiet again for a few moments, as always balancing one act against another. She nodded. "Very well. For our friendship, I am willing to witness this discussion. We shall talk again afterwards, and decide on how much, if any, punishment, this man deserves."

Tyche nodded gratefully. "We're going to a castle in Scotland, called 'Hogwarts'. It's a school for mortal magicians. It'll be deserted, it's August so school's out."

Nemesis just nodded at her babbling friend, a tiny twitch of amusement on her lips. Tyche recognized her friend/colleague's amusement, huffed, and vanished. Nemesis shook her head, and vanished as well, following the other goddess.

She reappeared next to a large lake, facing an imposing castle, backlit by stars and the large moon hanging overhead.

"Picturesque," Nemesis drawled. As goddess of balance, she disapproved of ostentatious shows of wealth or power.

"I'm going to go have my chat with Dumbledore," Tyche said, noting Nemesis raised a questioning eyebrow. The Goddess of Fortune sighed. "That's Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," she added. "He's the headmaster of this school, the chairman of their body of law _and_ primary organ of justice, and the representative of Great Britain to the international confederation of magic-users. Also likes to call himself 'grand sorcerer'."

Nemesis grunted. "I dislike him already," she said, lips curling down. "I agree with you, Tyche, this man will be a good target to take down a peg or two. Go, have your talk. Let's see what else we can pin on him."

"I knew you'd like him", Tyche said, with a frosty grin. "I'm going to cast some befuddlement spells on him while he sleeps, make myself semi-transparent, then wake him up. As far as he knows, I'm dead. I'm going to scare the crap out of him."

Nemesis grinned. "Looking like that?" she asked.

The Goddess of Fortune looked down at herself, blushed, and shifted back into 'Lily Potter'.

"I maintain that's a good look for you," the Goddess of Vengeance stated.

'Lily Potter' grunted at her friend, resisted the urge to make a rude hand-gesture, and vanished. Nemesis grinned wider, made herself invisible, and chased after her.

'Lily' appeared in the bedchamber of the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and watched the man sleep for a few moments. He slept deeply, peaceful and relaxed in his knowledge of superiority, no doubt.

The Goddess of Fortune lifted one hand, and cast. Mortal magic came easy to her now, as easy as it came to any god or goddess, and soon she had a triple-layer Confundus Charm settled onto the sleeping headmaster.

She was about to wake him when she remembered to make herself semi-transparent. Tyche drew a breath, forcing her anger down. It was going to cause her to make mistakes, mistakes she couldn't afford to make at this time.

The Goddess of Fortune grinned when a new idea struck her, and cast a few charms to generate a horrible smell and make the room feel cold.

She stepped closer, about to snap out a word to cause him to wake when she got a better idea.

Theoretically, it was possible for a bolt of lightning to strike from a clear sky, right there and then, close enough to the school to rattle the ancient building. Theoretically. It was just _extremely unlikely_.

Luckily, she was the Goddess of Fortune, and probability answered to _her_.

The bolt of lightning that crackled across the sky was bright, loud, powerful, and angry. The ancient castle vibrated with the force of it, and Albus Dumbledore startled fully awake.

00000

Albus Dumbledore was sleeping soundly, having a very nice dream that involved lots of chocolate and ice cream. It was one of his favorites, and he was enjoying it immensely.

Suddenly, the explosive sound of lightning yanked him savagely out of his dream, thrusting him angrily into the waking world. His head hurt, but his heart raced with adrenaline at being woken so brutally.

He blinked when his eyes focused on a figure standing in his bedchamber. She was familiar, red hair, green eyes… and suddenly he recognized her.

"Good evening, Albus," Lily Potter said, standing right in the path of his startled gaze.

"Mrs. Potter?" he wondered, half-asking, half-stating, looking furtively around. There was no storm outside, as he would have expected. It wasn't even raining. How had there been a massive thunder strike?

"Yes," she drawled. "Do forgive me for barging in. It was quite a trip."

Albus blinked repeatedly, his mind sluggish. It was hard to think over the headache, and coming down from an adrenaline surge left him exhausted. "You're dead," he informed her, suddenly realizing that she was semi-transparent, and his room felt cold. And what was that horrible smell?

Lily nodded amicably. "Hence the long trip, Albus," she said. "Do try to keep up, old man. I'm looking for my son. I can't seem to find Sirius anywhere, so I want to know where he took my boy."

Albus blinked again, ignoring the insult to his age, and trying to figure out what to tell her. His mind felt slow, and for the life of him, he couldn't find anything better than to tell her the truth.

"Ah… well… Sirius is in Azkaban," he answered. "But don't worry, Harry is with loving family," he added with total reassurance. Hopefully that would resolve her unfinished business and allow the poor woman to rest peacefully once more. He didn't know what had brought her back after all these years, but he was confident he could satisfy her questions and allow her the peace of her eternal rest.

Lily seemed to beat down a sure of anger. And was she _glowing_? "Why exactly is Sirius in Azkaban!?" she demanded. "And _where_ is my _son_, Albus?"

Albus sat up, and rubbed his temples. The glow was probably his imagination, it was gone now. "Sirius betrayed you to Voldemort," the headmaster answered, frowning as his headache didn't abate. To the contrary, it seemed to be getting _worse_. "So he was put in prison. And Harry is safe." He had to make her see sense. Harry was safe. She could rest.

Lily's fists balled, and seemed to glow again. She drew a breath. And relaxed. The glow was gone again. He rubbed his tired eyes, disturbed by the implications of seeing things that weren't there.

"Sirius couldn't betray us to Voldemort, Peter was the Secret Keeper of our Fidelius Charm. Sirius thought it up himself, everyone assumed it would be him, so he could play decoy. And. Again. _Where. Is. My. Son,_" the returned Lily Potter snarled the last question, and it made Albus flinch.

He didn't want to answer the question. Answering the question would cause her to stick around, no doubt. And he didn't want that. Unfortunately, his earlier answers had urged her on, and now he didn't know how to get out of it. Damn that lightning for waking him up like this, his mind still felt like molasses.

He muttered under his breath, and finally decided on reassuring her. "I found your extremely impressive protection on Harry, modified it a bit to hide him better, and gave him to your blood to replenish the blood protection you left on him."

Another crack of lightning split the skies above Hogwarts, and the Headmaster of Hogwarts found himself jumping slightly. Where did _that_ come from? It was a clear sky outside! He could see the stars through his window!

"And _why_ is Sirius in Azkaban, when a simple application of Veritaserum could have freed him?" Lily asked, as if the bolt of lightning hadn't just happened. Which made Albus think that there was something seriously wrong with him – could he be imagining the lightning? Like he was imagining the glow around her?

He rubbed at his forehead, his headache getting worse, and tried to focus on his nightly visitor. He muttered under his breath. He didn't want to answer.

"Albus?" Lily asked, sweetly. Something deep inside him urged him to answer, if he didn't answer, bad things would happen to him – the dead had means beyond the living, and Albus felt his chest constrict.

"It was a troubled time," Albus prevaricated. "So you have to understand."

"Albus," his visitor snapped. "I am dead. I can not die of old age before you finish. Answer. The. Question."

Albus mumbled again, trying to get out of answering directly. Lily leaned in closer, and suddenly the air felt even thinner and colder, causing her breath to steam. The putrid stench filling the room increased in intensity. "I am getting annoyed," she stated.

The feeling in his chest redoubled in its intensity, as he felt the cold and thin air in his lungs and the scent of death and decay filling his nostrils. The headmaster's eyes went wide and he tried desperately to lean away. "He was found at the scene, after 12 muggles died when he tried to kill Peter Pettigrew, saying he did it, so he was moved to Azkaban," the man rattled off, his skin a pasty white. He had encountered many things in his life, but _this_ was outside his frame of reference!

"You chucked him in a torturous prison _without a trial_!?" Lily choked out.

Albus flinched and shrunk further away from her, the room was quite cold now and it stank of sulfur and unclean, dead things that were best not pondered by the living. He didn't know what to say to reassure her of his intentions, how to calm her down and allow her to finish her business and rest once more.

"So you _gave_ my son to my sister, who hates all things magic, after messing about with the protection I left on him?" Lily then demanded, switching tack, and leaning in again. Albus shuffled away, almost-but-not-quite trying to hide behind one of the posters of his four-poster bed. His chest hurt now, his heart pounding.

"Now, Mrs Potter," he tried to reassure the angry undead mother, "Your sister is family. Surely-"

Lily was suddenly in his face, and another crack of thunder blossomed across the skies. The stench that filled his nostrils rose some ancient and primal memory of hideous creatures, a forgotten racial awareness of things best left undisturbed and forgotten.

He felt his heart pounding even harder, his chest hurting even worse. "My sister is an odious woman," Lily declared. "Did you even bother to check up on him?" she demanded, her nose practically touching his as he clung to his bed's poster.

"I had someone keep an eye out," he said hurriedly, too scared to try and think his way out and the truth spilling from his lips. "But after their trip to New York, Harry wasn't with them, and then they moved shortly after..."

It was a good thing, Lily thought, that she knew Harry was safe and sound on Olympus. If she _hadn't_ known, she probably would have torn the man's head off, Godly Law or not.

"I. Am. Most. Upset," Lily declared.

"I… I… understand..." Albus muttered, shooting a glance at his pillow, wishing he'd had the presence of mind to grab his wand when he'd woken up. Having it was better than not having it, especially now. Lily saw. Lily turned, and snatched the pillow away. She looked at the Elder Wand, the Death Stick, the Unbeatable Wand presented by Death itself. She shot him a darkly amused look.

"I am dead, Albus. You cannot kill me again," she stated, coldly. That single phrase scared Albus more than anything else he had heard in his life. "Now. Where is Harry?"

Albus swallowed deeply. "I… don't know?" he was forced to admit.

Her eyes narrowed. Was that glow intensifying? And just what _was_ that horrible smell that kept getting worse? "You better find him," Lily snapped. "And where are my sister and her oaf?"

He winced again, then had the presence of mind to paste a smile on his lips; although he was sure it looked more like a grimace. "I… am glad… you still care-" he started to say, a tiny fraction of terror within him releasing on the show of care for her sister. Somewhere deep within the undead form of Lily Potter, there was still kindness!

"I_ loathe_ them and I want to make their life a living hell for abandoning my baby in New York," the undead woman stated, her breath fogging in the cold of the room. Albus realized he was shivering not just with fear, but with cold as well. "Now, where are they?"

Despite himself, Albus could not fathom anyone willing to hurt their family. "Now, Lily," he started.

"WHERE!?" the woman thundered, her voice resonating strangely with his midriff.

"Last I heard, Moscow," Albus admitted. "They have been moving every month or two for some odd reason."

Lily narrowed her eyes. "I will check on my… sister. You better start on freeing Sirius."

"But… but..." Albus hedged, his mind blank and unable to come up with a response – ANY response – at all.

"Free. Sirius." Lily snapped at him, grabbing the wand from the bed. That command struck him deep. "Or not even this little toy will not save you from my wrath!" she snarled at him, throwing the wand in his direction. The old man was spry enough to manage to rescue it before it hit the floor.

She vanished, despite the wards at Hogwarts. Albus let out a breath when the room started to warm up again, and the stench slowly started to dissipate. His headache finally started to ease up. He rubbed his temples. Whatever that had been, it had been deeply frightening, and deeply unpleasant.

Albus got up from his bed, every bone in his body creaking. He imagined he could somehow convince the Minister to allow a secret investigation into Sirius Black, using forced Veritaserum, ostensibly to 'force Death eater secrets' from him.

He stopped when his hand reached the door. Something had been strange about that encounter. What had triggered Lily Potter into returning _now_? What had changed? His mind, now starting to work normally once more, went over the entire thing again.

Lily had seemed unnaturally focused on Sirius, and Harry not having been with him. It had been as if she had known the answer on his whereabouts already, and was simply trying to wrestle their truth from him.

And why had she told him to free Sirius, but not told him to find Harry?

He went over his memory of the conversation. No, scratch that. She _had_ told him to find Harry, just the once. And then she had seemingly forgotten about it, and focused instead on him freeing Sirius.

Albus blinked, then paled. The only answer.

Poor Harry had died. Harry had died, and found his mother in the afterlife. It had triggered her to return, and demand justice for Sirius, the only person still alive.

He stood still, bending his head, regretting every choice he made that led to this, and for the lost soul of Harry Potter.

Drawing a deep breath, he forced himself to move, and opened the door. As he stepped through the entryway to his quarters, he tripped over one of the flagstones that wasn't completely, one hundred percent, flush with the floor. A flagstone he had crossed thousands of times before.

He tripped, fell, and landed on the Elder Wand, irreparably snapping it.

00000

When Tyche vanished from Albus' room, she felt Nemesis follow her.

Both goddesses reappeared in Nemesis' temple, where Tyche immediately started pacing angrily. "I can _not believe_ that man!"

"Wrongful imprisonment, placing a child with unsuitable guardians, misuse of government positions, conspiracy to a cover-up, hubris," Nemesis listed. "Too much power, too much influence, yes, yes." A grin appeared on nemesis' face. "The kind of man I love targeting."

"Thanks, Nemmie," Tyche said, still pacing.

The Goddess of Balance shrugged. "He deserves some balance."

"What will you go after?" the other Goddess request, curious.

"His positions and his influence, I think," Nemesis replied calmly. She was Goddess of Balance, after all. "Let him see his influence and his positions crumble before his very eyes as he tries to free your friend."

Tyche nodded. "Poor Sirius. He may have been a scoundrel, and had issues with authority and responsibility, but his heart was in the right place."

"I could not comment," Nemesis answered with a tiny smile.

The Goddess of Fortune gave her friend a flat look. She knew that, as Goddess of Balance, Nemesis wouldn't be able to comment. She also knew, after thousands of years of camaraderie, when Nemesis was teasing her.

Nemesis was unimpressed with the flat look, and just returned the gaze.

Tyche sighed, and gave a faint smile. "I have to go look up my sister now, see if I can find her."

"Need a hand?" Nemesis offered, still with that tiny smile on her face.

"You're offering to help?" Tyche asked, surprised.

"Years of child abuse, plus abandoning a child," The Goddess of Balance answered. "That deserves some… balancing."

"From the sound of it, someone already got to them. Moving every few months indicates something, or someone, is chasing them," Tyche answered softly. "Depending on who or what is chasing them, I don't want to put you in the position of having to balance their situation _upward_."

Nemesis nodded thoughtfully.

"Thanks for the offer, though, Nemmie," Tyche whispered. "I appreciate it."

Nemesis shrugged. "Meh, it was fun. Not everyday I find someone so very deserving of my tender mercies."

The Goddess of Fortune smiled faintly. "Thanks, Nemmie," she repeated, then stood up. "I've got a sister and her oaf to find, so I should go."

Nemesis gave a small smile, then stood up to guide her guest to the door. Already, she was imagining what she was going to do.

00000

Tyche strode down a street in the heart of Moscow. It seemed that Albus Dumbledore had, in fact, been telling the truth about the Durlseys' current whereabouts. It had been easy for her to find them.

Contrary to what she had told her son, it was rather trivial for her to find people; her domain allowed her to wade through large amounts of data quickly by basically picking a volume at random and opening it to a random page. Usually, the entry she would be looking for would be on that page.

In this case, it was a large map of Moscow, and her closing her eyes, focusing on the Dursleys, and throwing a dart. The dart had struck right over a single residential house.

As she walked down the streets, she became aware of a crackle of thunder in the distance, and suddenly she was not alone.

"Greetings, Greek Goddess," a voice rumbled in Russian, right next to her. When she looked in surprise, she found that she had been joined by a powerfully built man, dressing in all-encompassing Russian robes that were hiding his features. When he glanced at her, all she saw were a pair of glowing eyes.

"Lord Perun," Tyche said, respectfully, while swallowed deeply and stopping her walk.

"What brings you here?" Perun asked, his voice gravelly. "I believe the agreement was to stay out of each other's territory, and here I find a tasty Greek Goddess wandering down a street in our region's capital city."

Tyche offered a shaky smile. "Two people were tasked with raising my son. Instead I find that they abused him, starved him, neglected him, and in the end, abandoned him. I wish to… make sure… they have been properly chastised."

Perun, Slavic God of Thunder, studied her a few moments. "Then I will be out of your way. I would advise you not to linger, however."

Tyche dipped her head in what could be construed as a bow. "Thank you, Lord Perun. I will not tarry."

Satisfied that his warning had been received, Perun vanished with another rumble of faraway thunder.

Swallowing her fear once more, Tyche legged it down the street, to the address she had divined, and found a rather dilapidated house. Looking through the window, she found that the windows were covered up with newspaper on the inside. Some slivers of light escaped, so obviously the lights were on.

The Goddess of Fortune sighed in irritation, then made herself invisible and intangible and passed through the walls.

On the inside of the home, Tyche realized that, on top of pasting the windows with newspapers, the curtains had been drawn, as if the inhabitants were afraid of being spied upon.

She found the two adult Dursleys crammed around a fireplace that was roaring, yet both were shivering and had blankets pulled around them. Neither looked healthy, their eyes were wild and shifty, their skin was pale and sallow. Vernon looked like he had lost half his body weight, and his skin hadn't had time to catch up yet. Petunia, never the heaviest, looked skin and bones.

Their son made to speak, but Vernon shushed him, then pointed to the walls, as if saying 'the walls have ears!'. When the boy seemed to not want to hear it, Petunia followed it up with a few angry motions, indicating 'you never know who's listening!'. Dudley sunk back into the couch, pouting.

Tyche looked around, this wasn't what she had been expecting. The room was hot, very hot, and yet the adults seemed to not notice it. Shifting her sight, she wanted to see what had…

She blinked.

Only one goddess she knew of could have place an enchantment like this. The Goddess of Fortune looked back at the Dursleys. Everything made sense now.

Hestia. Hestia had been so upset at her son's treatment that she had forbidden the fire from warming them, and she had forbidden any house from ever sheltering them. The adult Dursleys were forever cold, and forever denied security.

And it was driving them insane. The lack of heat was causing them to be ill, and the fact that no house would ever shelter them had made them paranoid. They would always feel watched, always feel persecuted, and it was breaking their minds. It was insidious, and it was devastating.

Tyche had never felt like thanking someone as thoroughly as she felt like thanking Hestia at that moment.

She vanished, not even bothering to walk back through the wall. The Dursleys were suffering, that was enough.

00000

Tyche arrived on Mount Olympus, and took a few moments to look around. She came here so sparingly that every time she did the mountain's beauty surprised her.

Drawing a breath, she focused on the temple she had arrived at. After a few seconds' deliberation, she approached the door and knocked softly. She didn't know what she hoped for more – that the goddess inside heard her, or that she _didn't_.

The door opened on perfectly silent hinges, and Tyche found herself smiling uncertainly at Hestia.

The Goddess of Home and Hearth smiled as welcoming as ever. "Hello Tyche," she said, gently. "Will you come in?" she offered, stepping back.

The Goddess of Fortune nodded hesitatingly. Despite Hestia' kindness, she was acutely aware of the difference in status. She was but a minor goddess, while Hestia was not just a major Olympian Goddess – she was _the first and last_ Olympian. Despite her pacifist stance, Tyche was well aware that the Law of the Primogenitor meant that Hestia had inherited the most power from the Titans Chronos and Rhea. Even if she never used it.

"Hello, Lady Hestia," Tyche greeted politely as she stepped inside, unsure of herself. She didn't like the feeling.

Hestia walked her to an incredibly homey and comfortable seating area. "Please, have a seat," the young-looking Goddess of the Home said. "Would you like something to drink, or something to eat?"

Tyche found herself relaxing and smiling tentatively in Hestia's direction. No matter what, Hestia would always be able to make a guest feel at home in her temple.

"Perhaps some tea, My Lady?" she requested politely.

The Goddess of the Home gave a benevolent smile and patted the Goddess of Fortune on her knee. "You can just call me Hestia, dear," she said, before a tea set appeared on the coffee table. Deftly, Hestia poured the beverage, before handing Tyche a cup.

The hot drink felt good after the day she had, and Tyche found herself letting out a sigh.

"I can guess why you're here," Hestia said, seated across from her guest, holding up her own cup.

"It's been an… interesting… day," Tyche allowed, not really knowing where to start.

Hestia nodded in agreement. "A very emotional one, as well," she added.

Tyche put the cup down on the table, then seemed to hug herself. Despite the perfect temperature in Hestia's temple, she felt a shiver travel down her spine. "My son doesn't remember me," she whispered.

Hestia smiled sadly. "Harry doesn't know you," she replied, then shifted closer. Tyche became aware of the fact that her host was seated right next to her all of a sudden. "I will counsel you the same way I counseled Harry," she said. "Get to know him, Tyche. Don't try and expect things from him, but get to know him for himself. You may find that he is a sweet and gentle boy, and that he will grow to like you for yourself."

Tyche's breath hitched. "I remember giving birth to him. I remember holding him. I love him, Hestia."

Hestia's sad smile grew sadder still. "Tyche," she said, drawing the distraught goddess' attention. "This is why so few of us aspect ourselves. Please remember. You are not your aspect. Your aspect isn't you. You are part of each other. Your aspect is a part of you, a small part, and some of you is part of your aspect. But in the end, your aspect isn't fully you, shaped as it is by different experiences and without your memories, and you are not your aspect, shaped as you are as a goddess and millennia of experience."

"But…" Tyche muttered in protest.

Hestia put a gentle, comforting hand on Tyche's knee. "The situation is complex, Tyche," the gentle Goddess of the Home said. "But remember, for Harry's sake, that he doesn't know you. He remembers only his relatives. It has left deep marks on him. When I first met him, it was in my usual guise. He believed me to be a child; I didn't mind. However, I now think that it was because of that fact that he trusted me. He pleaded with me to not tell any adults."

Tyche's face fell.

Hestia smiled faintly. "I have since shown him that adults can be trusted, and that not all adults are like his relatives. I am just telling you this so you would understand that Harry has had problems, and in some ways, he still does."

"He loves you," Tyche said, still whispering, yet sounding as if it physically hurt her to speak the words.

Hestia's smiled widened slightly. "He is a sweet boy, and I am quite fond of him as well," she answered Tyche's unspoken question.

"He reacted badly when I made a joke," The Goddess of Fortune admitted.

Hestia nodded once. "He told me about that. He thought you were serious, and was quite upset that you would ask him to choose between us." Tyche's face fell further, but Hestia patted her knee. "Your son doesn't know you," she repeated. "Take the time to get to know him, and give him time to get to know you. There may be pitfalls along the way, but if you both take the time and effort, I am sure that you will have a meaningful relationship."

Tyche sighed, and nodded sadly. She didn't reply verbally, lost in her thoughts, her gaze focused more on her clasped hands than anything else.

A tinkling sound drew her attention, and when she looked up, Hestia had picked a plate of cookies off the coffee table – a plate that definitely hadn't been there a few moment ago.

"Cookie?" the ever-hospitable Goddess of the Home offered. "They're quite good."

With the way she felt now, Tyche could use something sugary, so she accepted a cookie and bit into it. The taste exploded in her mouth, drawing an involuntary sound. Those were more than just _quite good_!

"This is brilliant!" she exclaimed, the first cookie already gone and reaching for a second.

Hestia smiled happily. "Harry felt subdued, so we baked some," she explained. "They're a new recipe, your son is quite inventive in the kitchen."

Tyche looked at the half-finished cookie in her hand. "Harry made these?" she wondered. "This is even better than the ones he made for Father's get-together."

The Goddess of the Home looked proud. "As I said, Harry is quite inventive in the kitchen. Although we did bake these together. Harry loves baking and cooking with me." Her gaze unfocused slightly, when she continued. "Such a sweet boy."

Tyche ate the remainder of her cookie at a more sedate pace. "Stress baking?" she asked.

Hestia re-focused on her guest, and seemed amused. "If I hadn't encouraged him to try different things, he would spend all day in the kitchen." Her smile deepened somewhat. "On his birthday, I asked him what it was he wanted. He could have asked for anything, anything at all. And he only said that he had food, clothes, friends, and shelter and that he didn't need anything else. Instead, he asked only that I would spend time with him, cooking."

Tyche swallowed, not knowing what to think about that. Harry had just turned nine. Nine-year-olds weren't supposed to say things like that. Perhaps the Dursleys had gotten off light.

"A few hours later," Hestia continued, "Hermes offered to take Harry for a ride in his chariot, show him some of the touristy things in the United States." The Goddess of the Home went silent for a moment. "If I hadn't encouraged him, Harry would have politely turned your father down. It's so rare that someone would give up things just to spend more time with me. Most see me, and most ignore me until they need something."

Tyche felt like she were an inch tall.

Hestia patted her knee. "I'm not saying that to make you feel bad," she gently admonished. "I am not as outspoken or as rambunctious as the others, so I fade easily into the background. I brought it up because I wanted you to understand Harry a little better."

Deciding that she wanted to think about _anything_ other then how much _her_ Harry loved the Goddess of the Home, Tyche asked, "did Harry realize the extent of his family yet? There were a few remarks on the get-together about how Mother's and Father's children were now his aunts and uncles, but it looked like it hadn't sunk in yet."

Hestia's smile showed that she knew exactly what Tyche was doing, but went along with it anyway. "I don't think it has, yet. He certainly didn't say anything to me. It will be amusing when he does, though."

They lapsed into silence again, and the Goddess of Fortune suddenly felt uncomfortable despite the warm welcome from the Goddess of the Home.

"I went to visit the Dursleys," Tyche admitted, swiping another cookie.

"Oh?" Hestia asked, not sounding particularly interested, but straightening up nonetheless.

"They were wrapped in blankets, in front of a burning fireplace, still cold despite the room being broiling hot. They also seemed to be quite paranoid, completely convinced they were being watched or overheard."

"Were they?" Hestia asked, sounding halfway-convincingly surprised. "How unusual."

The Goddess of Fortune nodded. "It seems someone got to them before I could," she said.

"Imagine that," Hestia commented with a slight smile.

"I wish I knew who it was," Tyche admitted. "I would like to thank them."

Hestia patted her knee again. "I'm sure that whoever it was, knows, Dear." Holding out the teapot, she offered, "Would you like some more tea?"

Tyche smiled slightly at her hostess, and held up her cup. "Please, Hestia," she answered, not really sure where to go from here, but accepting anyway.

The Goddess of the Home, fine hostess that she was, smiling slightly, and materialized something that looked like a photo album. "Perhaps you would like to take a look at some of the highlights of Harry's stay here on Olympus?" she offered.

Tyche smiled, something deep inside of her finally relaxing. "That would be great. Thanks, Hestia."

The First and Last Olympian simply scooted closer and opened the album. "When I first thought of introducing him to others, I started with beings who appeared young, as he had a mistrust of adults. I didn't want to push him one way or another, so I may not have disclosed everything to him. When I introduced him to Artie, he simply called her as he saw me call her. Her reaction was quite funny," Hestia started to say, opening the album, and displaying a moving memory of the Goddess of Home. Tyche stifled a laugh at the outraged look on Lady Artemis' face.

Hestia flipped the page, and a new memory started playing. "This is one..."


	16. Chapter 16

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 16**

Harry waved at the rising sun, and smiled when it winked back at him. Drawing a breath, he closed his eyes, and got into a narrow horse stance. He'd done this exercise off and on for the last month or so, and was getting pretty good at it.

He sunk back on his heels, and released his body. Time and effort and physical discomfort flowed away, and Harry's mind was nothing but a sea of black. _Quiet Standing_ was an exercise before he could start the next portion of the Martial Arts text Bai had given him. Energy Work. It sounded exciting.

"Harry?"

The sudden jarring sensation of being brought back down to earth made him stumble out of his stance, only catching himself the barest moment before literally falling to the ground.

He blinked at his all-time favorite goddess. "Hestia?" he asked, wondering. "Where did you-" he broke off his question when the realized that _the sun had gone_. He stared at the empty sky, and spun around, looking for it.

It had shifted considerably, and he found it nearly above Helios' Temple.

"What?" he asked, blinked at it.

He heard Hestia laugh softly. "You look so surprised," she said, standing next to him as he stared at the sun.

"What time is it?" he asked.

Hestia laughed, softly, again. "2 in the afternoon," she replied. "I came over for lunch, but you seemed engaged so I left you. When you didn't seem like acknowledging me any time soon, I decided to call you."

Harry gaped. Suddenly, he legs felt like lead, and he stumbled again. This time, Hestia needed to catch him. Her laughter vanished, and she looked quite worried.

"I've been Standing since 8 am," he told her. "And I didn't even realize."

Hestia still looked worried and helped him to a nearby bench. He went on, "I had just drifted off, and time turned meaningless," he explained.

Hestia didn't look like she understood, but nodded regardless. A plate of food appeared in her hand, and she held it out to him. "Here, eat," she instructed. "I'm glad you're alright, but you may not want to do that again."

Harry nodded. "Not alone, anyway," he said. "I don't know how long I could have stood there if you hadn't come along and woke me up."

The Goddess of the Home didn't look convinced, but nodded slowly anyway.

The food was marvelous, as it always was, and the ambrosia content made his legs tingle as they healed from the damage he'd done to them.

When he finished his late lunch, Hestia shoved a plate holding a piece of chocolate cake in his hands. He didn't need encouragement, and the cake vanished.

"Thanks, Hestia," he said, quietly.

The Goddess of the Hearth smiled in her usual gentle fashion. "You're quite welcome," she said. "Can you tell me what you were doing?"

"It's an exercise from the Martial Arts book," Harry said, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. "It's called _Quiet Standing_. You're supposed to meditate, and disconnect your mind from your body. When you're good at it, you can Stand for hours, and it goes by like seconds. Which is what I think happened to me."

"That's… good?" Hestia offered.

Harry nodded excitedly. "It is. It means I get to try working with energy next."

"Oh?" she asked, encouraging him.

Harry just nodded. "It depends on the next exercise, though. Only one in ten thousand can do it, apparently," he said.

Hestia hm-ed thoughtfully, and the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence. She waited a few minutes to see if Harry would talk more about his mysterious exercise, but when it became clear that he wouldn't, she decided it was time to address the elephant in the room.

"How are you feeling after the revelations regarding your mother?" she asked, gently.

Harry drew a deep breath, and sighed it out in a lengthy fashion. "It was a big shock," he finally said. "But you're right. I don't know her, and I should get to know her." He smiled faintly. "It does mean I have family now," he added.

"Yes, you do," Hestia agreed, smiling faintly.

"If Mister Hermes is my grandfather, does that mean you're my grandaunt?" Harry asked, softly, shyly looking away.

Hestia laughed softly. "I am Hermes' aunt. That means I am your great-grandaunt," she correctly gently, leaning closer to him.

"Great-grandaunt," Harry repeated. "That makes you sound so old," he added without an ounce of tact.

The Goddess of Home and Hearth laughed. "I _am_ old, Harry," she said, grinning. "Just like most gods."

"Does that… does that mean I can call you Aunt Hestia?" Harry asked, tentatively, shyly looking at her.

"If you wish," the gentle goddess said, still smiling.

Harry grinned. "Our Auntie Hes?"

Hestia laughed. "If you wish," she repeated. She loved how Harry could be _normal_ around her. It was refreshing to have a mortal around who treated her like a person, rather than an angry god.

Harry fell silent for a few moments, obviously thinking. She let him think, and occupied herself with conjuring a tea set and pouring beverages for the two of them.

"I think I'll stick to 'Hestia', if that's alright," he whispered. "You're my friend, first."

"If you wish," Hestia repeated again, still smiling. Mortals rarely enjoyed a friendship with a god, and she rather liked it.

She handed Harry a cup of tea while taking her own.

"Artie is Mister Hermes' sister, right? That would make _her_ my grandaunt, right?" Harry asked.

Hestia nodded thoughtfully while sipping her tea. Precisely the right temperature and steeped exactly the correct amount of time, just as she liked it.

"Does that mean I could call her 'Granny'?" Harry asked.

Hestia choked on her tea, nearly spreading it over the intricate columns in the back yard of Helios' Temple. She coughed a few times to clear her lungs of hot liquid, then looked at Harry, who was staring at her with surprise at what his comment had caused.

"Artie would either laugh at you, or turn you into a furry woodland creature," Hestia answered. "Although her face would be quite funny, I would recommend against it."

Harry looked amused.

"Besides," Hestia said, "'granny' means 'grandmother', so technically, the only one you could accurately call 'granny' would be Aphrodite. And her reaction would probably be even funnier than Artie's would be."

The young boy nodded thoughtfully. "I haven't really met Miss Aphrodite yet," he said, thoughtfully. "I mean, I met her at that meeting, but I haven't seen her since."

Before Hestia could say anything else, Harry went on, switching tangents. "That also means that I'm related to Miss Hera, Miss Demeter, Mister Poseidon, and Mister Hades! I've got more great-grandaunts and great-granduncles! And I'm related to Mister Apollo, too, that's awesome!"

Hestia looked amused. "And Zeus?" she half-asked, half-said.

Harry crossed his arms. "I don't like him," he said, looking away.

The goddess laughed softly. "Again, Harry, like your mother, you don't know him, and you were rather confrontational when you first met him. You may find out that you like him if you give him a chance. He can be rather strict, and look scary, but he can also be an incredibly loyal and supportive."

Harry's shoulder dropped. "Maybe," he allowed, unable to find it in himself to go against Hestia when she recommended giving people a chance.

Someone knocked on the large double doors of the Temple of Helios. Surprised, Harry got up and walked through the large building to answer it. He wasn't expecting anyone, and those that knew him would have just popped in rather than knock.

He pulled one side of the door open. His mouth opened to say a greeting, when he recognized his visitors.

Instead of a friendly greeting, a scream escaped his lips. "HESTIA!"

The two Olympus Security soldiers froze at his unexpected scream. At the same time, Harry realized that he wasn't a scrawny and untrained little boy anymore, and that he had options.

Within moments, the Lasso had unfurled into his hands. It seemed to read his mind, and apparently eager to obey his desires, it practically _leapt_ from his hands to tie the two guards up.

Tightly. Together. From their necks to their feet, they were trussed up like a sausage, before falling over.

Hestia appeared right next to him, worry and confusion evident on her face, and took in the situation in a single glance, before relaxing.

"What is going on?" she asked. Her voice was tight, yet as friendly as she could make it in a tense situation.

"Lady Hestia," Left Guard said. Harry tensed; it was the guard that had hit him hard enough to break two ribs last time. "Apologies for the interruption. We… ah… came to invite Harry Potter as witness for a trial." He sounded stunned, as if he couldn't believe the speed with which he had gone from top dog to tied-up at the mercy of a young mortal boy.

"What kind of trial?" Harry asked, suspicious.

"Lord Zeus has assembled the Olympian Council to sit in a hearing over Lady Tyche, Goddess of Fortune, regarding alleged breaches in the Non-interference Law, as well as allegations of International misconduct," Right Guard replied in a monotone, as if being captured and tied up was an everyday occurrence.

"As Harry is Lady Tyche's son, and her conduct was related to her meeting him and claiming him as her own, he is being called forth as material and character witness," Left Guard said, still sounding as if he had trouble processing his reversal of fortune.

Harry opened his mouth to ask another question, suddenly feeling extremely worried about his mother. Hestia beat him to it. "And Harry is expected to go alone to this trial?" she asked.

Right Guard, still unflappable, shook his head. "I am sure nobody would object to you acting as counselor, Lady Hestia," he answered.

Harry shuffled closer to her, he felt safe around the Goddess of the Home. He was still eyeing Left Guard, not trusting him one bit.

"Perhaps you should release them now, Harry? We should have a look and see what my youngest brother has cooked up this time," Hestia suggested.

Harry hesitated for a moment, before releasing the Lasso with a single tug of his wrist. It obediently opened up before curling back into the boy's hand.

"I'm glad to see it come in handy," the Goddess of the Home said, looking at the weapon.

Harry cradled it against his chest. "Are you kidding? Your Lasso is almost as awesome as you are!" For a moment, the young boy had the impression that, if weapons could purr, the Lasso would be doing so.

Hestia laughed softly, and Harry stopped cradling his weapon, before turning it back into a ring. "It's _your_ Lasso now, Harry," she told him, softly.

Harry grinned back at her. It would always be _Hestia's_ Lasso in his mind.

"Please, follow us," Right Guard said, sounding no different now that he was back on his feet instead of tied up on the ground.

As Harry and Hestia followed the two guards, Hestia put a comforting arm around the boy's shoulders. "Don't worry, Harry. I'm sure it's nothing. My youngest brother tends to overreact, and loves dramatics. At least we now know you're just a witness, and we have some idea on what charges your mother is facing, thanks to the Lasso's ability to compel the truth out of people captured by it."

Harry nodded. Honestly, he had forgotten about the Lasso's ability to compel truth. "Maybe I should have asked some embarrassing questions," he said quietly. The Left Guard seemed to tense, while the Right Guard, in his usual manner, ignored it. Apparently, he hadn't been quiet enough.

Hestia gave him a look of disappointment. "That would have been wrong, Harry," she said, gently, yet firmly.

The boy shrunk slightly. "Sorry, Hestia."

She smiled, and patted his shoulder. "You're still young, you'll learn yet," she stated calmly.

They lapsed into silence, and Harry was soon lost in his thoughts, wondering what was going on with his mother.

The soldiers preceded them into the Great Temple, and stopped right outside the throne room. "You are expected," Right Guard said, reaching to open the door.

"Thank you," Hestia said, gracing him with a smile. She eyed the Left Guard, who humbly dropped his head. A flash of memory came to the surface in Harry's mind, reminding him that Hestia had promised to have a talk with the man who had broken his ribs. He wondered if that chat ever happened.

Considering the man was now refusing to look at the Goddess of the Home, he would assume so.

The doors to the throne room slid open on silent hinges, and Harry swallowed. Last time he had been here, it had been the scariest moment of his life. He wasn't sure if he wanted to repeat that performance.

Hestia placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "I am here for you, Harry," she said, giving him an encouraging smile. "Keep your head up, this time you're here as a witness, and nobody will harm you. I will make sure of it."

Harry gave her an uncertain smile in return, but nodded anyway.

"Harry, son of Tyche," Left Guard announced as they crossed into the room. "And his counselor, Lady Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth, Home, and Family, Guardian of Elpis, The Last Olympian."

Harry felt Hestia tighten up slightly, as if she were uncomfortable with the way she had been announced. For a moment, he wondered who or what Elpis was and why Hestia would be guarding him, her, or it, but that thought fled immediately.

In the center of the Throne Room stood Tyche, Goddess of Fortune. For a few moments, he didn't recognize her, before remembering that she didn't normally look like Lily Potter.

"Come, Harry," Hestia said, squeezing his shoulder gently. He nodded to her, and started walking again; apparently, he had stopped at the sight of his mother.

She wasn't looking very good, he had to admit to himself. At the pok… maths party, she had looked strong, with her head held high. Now she looked… defeated… somehow. Her head was bent, and she was staring down at the floor in front of Mister Zeus' throne.

Harry gave in to the urge to look around, and make eye contact with most of the gods and goddesses he was on friendly terms with. They all looked inscrutable. The two of them had obviously come in during the trial, and interrupted it, and Harry wondered for a moment why he hadn't been called beforehand.

"Harry is here to bear witness," Hestia said, stopping next to Tyche, her hand subtly indicating that he should stop walking.

"Very well," Zeus said, waving one hand, as if it were of no import. "Athena, proceed."

Athena approached; she was in her full godly form of three meters tall, and looked down at the young demigod. "Harry," she said, her tone even yet with an undercurrent of support. "In your own words, recount what happened when you first met Tyche."

Harry blinked, then nodded. He started to explain how he had been invited by Mister Hermes and a few of his friends, and how Tyche had been there. He recounted her reaction, how she changed into_ Lily Potter,_ then told about his interactions with her.

"So," Athena said, after he finished his tale, "you told your mother about your treatment at the hands of your previous guardians?"

He nodded. "Yes, Miss Athena."

"What was her reaction?" the goddess asked.

Harry frowned, and thought back. "She asked why I wasn't with a guy called Sirius Black, whom I've never heard of. She seemed upset, but I don't know her that well so I'm not sure. It was the first time we met."

Athena nodded again, "That's understandable. Thank you for your testimony." She then gave him a tiny smile. "Good use of the word 'whom'," she said, always the teacher.

"Thanks, Miss Athena," he answered. Hestia squeezed his shoulder again, and Harry looked surprised. Was that it? That's was all he had to do?

Hestia guided him away, and took a seat behind the thrones; apparently, this was expected, as seating was available. Others were there as well, but nobody Harry knew so he ignored them and focused on what was happening.

Athena turned back to Zeus. "Tyche discovered her son was not where she assumed him to be, heard that he had been mistreated and abandoned, and questioned why he wasn't with the guardians her mortal aspect had assigned. Obviously, this has made her angry and she decided to question the mortals herself," she said. "That is what the evidence and the testimony shows." She turned, walked to her throne, and sat down.

Zeus sat up straight, and looked the various gods in the eye for a moment. "She showed herself to a mortal, thus breaching the non-interference laws. She then proceeded to go to Moscow, thus breaching the accords we have with the Slavic pantheon, and she manipulated a domain not her own. She's guilty."

Various gods, obviously having held their tongues until now, exploded into shouts and screams. Harry shrunk; he _hated_ shouting. Hestia's calming hand was placed on his shoulder, imparting some strength.

"SILENCE!" Zeus thundered. As God of Thunder, he was very good at it, and the room quieted.

"Brother, every one of us would have questioned the mortals in question, had we found out our children were mistreated," Poseidon snapped into the silence, obviously not as afraid of the King of the Gods as the others.

"A mother's love is powerful," Aphrodite added in with a nod.

"Plus, she did so in the guise of her deceased mortal aspect," Athena stated. "Thereby preserving the secret of our existence."

Zeus waved his hand. "None of that matters," he said.

"Yes, it does," Hera snapped. "There is a reason why we gods rarely aspect themselves. We know that those memories and personalities can show up unexpectedly. Tyche found her son where she did not expect him, years after her aspect reintegrated. It took over, as per Harry's testimony – she took on her aspect's form, and her aspect's personality."

Zeus grumbled, and seemed ready to hand-wave that as well. "Plus, she interacted with the mortals only in her aspect's form, using her aspect's name, and only verbally. She did not curse or smite anyone," Artemis added. "Which shows an admirable amount of restraint considering what was done to her son."

"Other than use a few confusion spells. _Mortal_ confusion spells," Athena stated. "Which added to the mortal's confusion and lack of awareness of her real identity."

Zeus grumbled more.

"Bah, everyone knows I've got no love for the brats," Dionysus said, "but if someone did to one of mine what was done to Harmon, I'd do more than scare the crap out of them. Just let her go."

Zeus' face looked thundering angry. "Fine," he snapped. "The next charge is breach of the compacts with the Slavic pantheon."

Athena sighed. "Tyche was in Moscow for less than 20 minutes, during which the only thing she did was check up on a mortal couple. A mortal couple that had been the primaries responsible to the treatment of her son. She politely explained this to the Slavic representative, was given special clearance, and left quickly after ascertaining the couple in question was suffering. I don't see any cause to call this a 'breach'."

Zeus' thundering anger focused itself on Athena, who looked back stoically. "Thus the evidence shows, Father," she said when it didn't look like Zeus was about to say anything.

"She should not have been there at all!" he snapped.

"Again, would any of us do any different if it were our child?" Poseidon asked.

"Maybe not so blatantly," Athena said. "But, agreed."

Most of the gods and goddesses nodded. "So far, Tyche's only crime seems to be a lack of restraint and a lack of subtlety," Hermes said. "I vote we give her a stern talking-to, followed by an admonishment to never do it again, then let her go."

Zeus' angry face turned to his son. "Of course you would say that, Hermes. She is your daughter."

"And your granddaughter, Father," Hermes answered, trying to blatantly play on his father's emotions. Zeus' eyes narrowed, demonstrating the gambit hadn't worked.

"Fine, I can see which way the wind is blowing," the King of the Gods snapped. "Justice is in short demand today, it seems."

"There is a difference between justice and legality, Father," Athena said. "Going by the letter of the laws, you are correct. However, judging by the spirit of the laws, Tyche had reason to do what she did, and she did so in a way that hurt no-one, nor damaged our secrecy or standing."

Zeus' look showed that he didn't much care for the difference between legality and justice, and that Athena would be better off silent for a while.

"The final issue is that Tyche manipulated a domain not her own. Case in point, _mine_. She conjured two large bolts of lightning in her _discussion_ with the mortal. An act which was not hers to do," the King of the Gods growled dangerously. "And on this one, I will _not_ budge."

Poseidon looked just as angry as his brother. "Don't be a hypocrite, Zeus. If it had been Thalia Grace, for example, you would never had complained!"

"Thalia is my daughter!" Zeus snapped at his older brother.

"And Tyche is your granddaughter," Hermes repeated. "Father."

Zeus' lips bared his teeth.

"The question is – how did Tyche create these lightning strikes?" Athena asked, despite her father's earlier glare. "She is Goddess of Fortune, conjuring bolts of lightning of the size indicated should not be possible for her."

The gods and goddesses fell silent, and studied the unfortunate Goddess of Fortune, still standing in the center of the Throne Room, studiously studying her feet.

"That is a good question," Poseidon allowed. "How did you manage that?" he asked Tyche directly.

The Goddess of Fortune looked up. "As Goddess of Fortune, I rule probability. Technically, anything is possible, just highly unlikely. So, if I manipulate probability so that a bolt of lightning strikes at the opportune moment…"

"Then lightning will strike at the opportune moment," Poseidon finished with a nod.

"You used your domain to create the desired effect rather than create the effect yourself," Athena said, looking impressed. "That is highly imaginative." She looked at her father. "Father, Tyche did not manipulate your domain."

"Not directly," Zeus snapped. "I demand punishment nonetheless."

"Father, please-" Hermes started.

"You are biased," Zeus snapped at the God of Messengers.

"As are you," Poseidon snapped in defense of Hermes. "You are having this witch hunt for no reason other than Tyche is the mother of Harry Potter."

Zeus crossed his arms. "That is so not true!" he blustered.

"Husband," Hera said, "you need to let go of your anger towards a poor mortal boy."

Zeus glared at his wife, then switched his glare at Tyche. "Luckily, as it was _my _domain that was affected, I can rule punishment without agreement from the council!" he barked. "From this day forward, you will not talk to your son, nor will you answer his prayers," he snapped at the unfortunate goddess. "Since it seems Justice is in short supply today, this will have to do." He vanished with a clap of thunder.

"Well, that could have gone better," Poseidon sighed. He looked at the dazed Goddess of Fortune. "Tyche, I am sorry that you were drawn into this, but our esteemed King seems to have it in for young Harry."

Most of the gods and goddesses spoke a few words with the upset Goddess, before vanishing as well.

"Mom?" Harry asked, after most of the gods had left.

Tyche managed a smile, and opened her mouth to say something, when she grabbed her throat, her face grimacing.

"You have been ordered not to speak with Harry," Hestia said, sadly. Tyche nodded. Looking sadly at Harry, she opened her arms.

Harry threw himself at her. Last time, he had been too stunned to do anything other than hug her, but this time he was determined to remember every moment of it. If he wasn't going to see his mother again, then he would make sure he remembered this moment.

Hugging her felt like everything and anything was possible, everything that should, would and could happen just outside of his reach.

Tyche held him, and patted his back. It felt different, Harry thought, hugging her as Lily Potter and hugging her as Tyche. "I'm sorry, Mom," he whispered into her shoulder.

Tyche made to say something, and grabbed her throat again. "Lady Hestia," she said, hesitatingly. Now that she apparently could speak without pain, she added, "Can you tell Harry-" she grunted as the curse struck her.

Hestia was suddenly there, right next to them. "Your mother is trying to say that this isn't your fault, Harry," the kindhearted Goddess of the Home translated.

He looked up from the embrace, and looked at his mother, in her Tyche form. Her real form, he would have to accept it. She was Lily Potter, but she was more than just Lily Potter, too. "I'm still sorry Mister Zeus is a jerk," he said.

Tyche managed a small smile, then released him. She looked at Hestia, and some silent communication passed between them. The Goddess of the Home placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, and was just about to guide him away, when Hermes reappeared, glancing furtively left and right.

Seeing no-one else, he hurriedly approached them.

"Tyche, sometimes it doesn't pay to be out of bed," he muttered. "I don't know what Father has against Harry, but this was a farce." He looked around again, and still not seeing anyone else, went on. "Every curse has two triggers. The first one is the obvious one. It's the one people tend to focus on. The second one is the one that will let you bypass the curse. In this case, the first trigger is 'your son'. You can't talk to your son nor answer his prayers. The second one will let you get around the curse. The second trigger is 'talk'. So – don't talk. Write. Or try using sign language, but that one's fifty-fifty." He grinned. "Hermes express is very good at delivering letters," he hinted, still grinning.

Tyche looked at her father, blinked, snapped her fingers, and created a blank piece of paper and a ballpoint pen. Using her amused father's back as a surface, she wrote a quick message, then handed it to Harry.

He read it, grinned, accepted the ballpoint pen and the use of an equally amused Hestia's back, and wrote an answer before passing it to his mother, who started laughing.

The Goddess of Fortune clamped her arms around her father within moments. "Thank you, Father."

"Just doing my best for my daughter and grandson," the God of Thieves replied with a grin, patting her back. "What happened today was a farce, and we all know it. In addition, I'm inviting you to the next Maths Party. Let's see if the curse still holds outside of our territory."

"That's great. Thanks, Father," Tyche said, releasing him.

No sooner had she released him when Harry took her place. "Thank you, Mister Hermes." Hugging Hermes was interesting, Harry noted. It felt like rules and regulations were mere silly suggestions to be ignored at will, coupled with the feeling of being able to reach anywhere on the planet at a moment's notice. He rather liked the feeling of freedom it created.

Hermes laughed softly, and patted the boy's back. "You can just call me 'Hermes'," he said. "I'm still not a fan of 'granddad' or 'grandfather'."

Harry laughed and released the God of Messengers, who grinned at Tyche, ruffled Harry's hair, and nodded at Hestia before vanishing.

Tyche, smiling, wrote something on the paper and handed it back to Harry. He read it, quickly, and nodded. "Writing sounds excellent, Mom." He hugged her again, the feeling of probability erupting once more.

When she released him, Tyche nodded a greeting at Hestia, before she vanished.

Harry stared at the empty space that held his mother, and then slowly turned to Hestia. "I'm really sure I don't like Mister Zeus, Hestia," he said, formally. "And I don't think I want to get to know him. Or give him a chance."

The Goddess of the Hearth sighed. "I can't really blame you," she answered. "I know you didn't make the best of impressions but to go out of his way like this, it's petty and cruel."

Harry just hugged his all-time favorite goddess. Right now, he didn't want to think, he just wanted to empty his mind and forget.

00000

With the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips in concentration, Harry manipulated the piping bag as he wrote on his latest creation. Finished, he deftly raised the bag without damaging the writing he had made in icing, and smiled.

"You seem busy," Hestia said, startling him.

Hurriedly putting the piping bag down, Harry smiled widely and grabbed the goddess in a big hug. "I was baking," he explained.

Hestia laughed softly, and indicated the various triple-layer chocolate cakes that dotted the counter and the table in the kitchen. "So I see," she said with laughter in her voice.

"I am going to ask Hermes to deliver them," the young boy explained. "I baked a cake for everyone who stood up for my mother yesterday. I've got thank you cards, too."

Hestia's smile turned sad, but she nodded regardless. "I am sure that the gods and goddesses in question will appreciate the gesture," the Goddess of the Home said as she studied the cake Harry had been working on.

_Thank you, Miss Athena,_ Harry had written in frosting. "Nicely done," she complimented him.

"Thanks, Hestia," Harry said, a bit shyly, as he picked up the piping bag and continued decorating the cake.

"I see you made an extra large cake," the goddess said, looking at one exemplary specimen, which seemed to have a place of honor on the counter.

Harry nodded as he continued to pipe intricate rosettes around the circumference of Athena's cake. "The quadruple-layer chocolate cake is for Hermes, for finding a way for mom and me to stay in touch."

Hestia smiled, inwardly glad that gods had immortal livers as that was a huge amount of chocolate.

"And that one cake that's set apart?" she asked.

"That one's for Mister Dionysus. It's just out of the oven so it needs to cool a bit before I decorate it. I've set it apart because it's a cake for Mister Dionysus, you know? I wouldn't want to mix it up by mistake. I'll hand-deliver that one; it'll give me an excuse to spend some time at camp."

Hestia gave another low laugh. "I'm glad you're not feeling too bad, after yesterday," she said.

Harry fell silent for a few moments, before raising the piping bag, having finished his rosettes. "Baking takes my mind off things," he answered, honestly. "And this way, I get to make people happy." A shudder went through his body, and he seemed to be struggling to compose himself. "At least I can stay in contact with mom. I don't know her, but she's _my mom,_ and I've wanted a mom for so long, and now Mister Zeus tried to take her from me."

He slowly turned to look at Hestia. "I know you want me to like everyone, Hestia," he said, on a low tone of voice, hesitatingly. "But I don't think I can like Mister Zeus right now."

The Goddess of the Home hugged him. A Hestia Hug. He loved those. "I can understand that, Harry."

When they broke, Harry looked at the undecorated cake. "I should finish up Mister Dionysus' cake, it should have cooled by now," he whispered.

"I will leave you to it, then," Hestia replied, giving him an honest, supportive smile. "I think I will go visit Zeus, just to see what he has to say for himself."

Harry looked at her, for a moment wondering whether he should stand up for Zeus or not. He didn't like it when Hestia was at odds with the other gods, and he liked it even less when it was over _him_, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything at the moment.

"Okay, Hestia," he said, softly.

Hestia patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, Harry. One way or another, things will resolve themselves."

The young boy nodded, and gave Hestia a small smile, just before she vanished.

He stood there for a few moments, lost in thought, before drawing a deep breath. He took a new piping bag and filled it with special frosting, made with crème de cacao. Time to decorate Mister Dionysus' cake, and pray to his grandfather for some help with delivering his creations.

He looked over the various cakes he had already finished. He was proud of them, and he'd done his best to personalize them for the intended recipient. Mister Poseidon's had seashells piped along the edge, Artie's had little arrows that he had spent a _lot_ of time getting right, and so forth. He shot another look at the last cake he had finished. Miss Athena's intricate rosettes had come out well, if he did say so himself.

He turned to the final cake, and piped his thank you message. After finishing that, he starting piping various spirit-related glasses around the edge of it. He was sure the portly god would enjoy the special ingredient in the cake and the frosting.

He boxed up every cake, and taped his thank you cards to those boxes. Mister Dionysus' cake, ready for hand-delivering, was on a separate plate with a cover.

For the first time, Harry wondered how he was going to ask his grandfather to do this. He knew how busy the God of Messengers was, so going to knock on his temple door was likely to result in him finding an empty temple.

Also, he suddenly realized that Hermes Express cost money; and he wouldn't want to take advantage of the fact that he was Hermes' grandson to get free shipping.

Opening the drawer where he kept the _spending money_ Hestia gave him, he took out a stack of drachmas, and made a neat tower of them in the middle of the table. Since he didn't immediately see any other way of contacting Hermes, Harry closed his eyes, folded his hands, and prayed.

"Hi Hermes. It's me, Harry," he started, not knowing just how much a god could hear through prayer. "I have some cakes that I made for the gods and goddesses who stood up for my mom yesterday, and I was wondering if you could deliver them for me? I don't know how much you usually ask for deliveries, so I have some money-"

Before he could finish, the cakes vanished with a popping noise, following by the sound of an old-fashioned cash register. Harry opened his eyes to find every cake except the one for Dionysus gone. He looked at the small stack of money on his table. At first sight, it seemed to be the same, but on closer count it seemed Hermes had charged him one gold coin for the service.

"Thanks, Hermes," Harry said, closing his eyes and folding his hands again.

There seemed to be a draft of wind that flowed through the kitchen, and for a moment, it felt like it hugged him and ruffled his hair before vanishing.

Harry grinned. He hoped the cakes would be well received.

00000

Harry emerged from the green flames burning in Hestia's Hearth at Camp Half-blood. The moment he cleared them, they turned back to their normal yellow-orange color, and Harry gave them a tiny smile in thanks before making his way to the Big House.

Various campers saw him pass by, but he was walking purposefully enough, carrying a large covered plate filled with cake, that they didn't approach him before he managed to reach his destination.

The plate was big and heavy, and required his two hands, which gave Harry a problem – he couldn't knock on the door with both hands occupied.

Carefully, he put the plate down, knocked, and managed to pick up his burden before the door was pulled open.

Dionysus blinked, then frowned, when he saw Harry at his door. "Harmon?" he asked on a level tone, indicating that Harry had better made it good, or the god would be most displeased.

Harry gave the god a smile. "Hi Mister Dionysus," Harry said, friendly and politely. "I made you something because you stood up for my mom yesterday."

The god's eyes narrowed further as he studied the covered plate. Finally reaching out, he pulled the cover off and studied the cake.

"It's got a little something extra in it for you," Harry explained.

Dionysus swiped some of the frosting off the cake with his finger and tasted it. His eyes opened and a grin formed on his lips. "You know my tastes, Harmon," the God of Wine said, still grinning, and taking the huge plate with a single hand and turning to go back inside.

"Also," Harry said, stopping the god. "I really don't like you-know-who right now, so I thought I'd mention there are things like red wine sauce, and whiskey sauce, and lots of other dishes that include things you can't have; so you may want to look into hiring a couple of regular chefs as well."

The god, who had stared in annoyance over his shoulder, nodded. His grin widened. "I'll do that, Harmon," he said. "Out of all these brats, I think I dislike you the least," he added, before turning fully and shutting the door.

Harry didn't mind, he knew the god was grumpy because of Zeus' edict. If Zeus had punished _him_ by not being allowed to cook, or worse, talk with Hestia, he'd be upset and grumpy too.

Besides, Dionysus telling him that he was the least disliked demigod sounded like a compliment.

His smile vanished. He'd delivered his cakes. He wanted to write a letter to his mother, if only he knew what to write about. Hestia was right, he _didn't_ know her, so he didn't know what interested her.

He walked away from the Big House, in search of his friends. He needed to take his mind off things, and his friends were usually good at diverting his attention from things that bothered him. Maybe they could have a walk on the beach, and he could say hello to Mister Poseidon. He wondered for a moment if the God of the Seas had received his cake.

"You seem rather distracted, Squirt," a voice broke into his thoughts, and Harry blinked to find himself standing still. Had he been so lost in thoughts that he'd stopped moving entirely?

He looked up, staring up at Thalia and Luke. He hadn't had much contact with them since bringing them to camp, mostly because of the age difference he guessed.

"Hi Thalia, Luke," he said. Focusing on Thalia, he said, "I really don't like your dad. He's an as-" he stopped speaking and furtively looked around, halfway expecting Hestia to be right behind him. She wasn't, and he let out a relived breath.

Both demigods laughed. "Don't mind your tongue, Squirt," Thalia said with a grin. "We've heard worse, trust me. So, what did Dear Old Dad do?"

Harry sighed. "I found my mom. She's Tyche, Goddess of Fortune. When she found me, she was really surprised, and wanted to know why I wasn't with the guardians she'd picked out, you know? And then she found out how I was treated and stuff, and she got really angry. So she went to the mortals to find out what was what and things. Then Zeus found out, and he called her to a trial and tried to have her convicted for not following the rules."

"He did _what_?" Luke asked, sounding shocked and outraged at the same time.

"I know, right?" Harry said. "Luckily, mom had disguised herself so most gods agreed to let her off, but Zeus didn't want to let her off so he cursed her; she can't speak to me, ever again, and she can't answer my prayers, ever again."

"Holy shit," Thalia said. "That sucks big time!"

Luke looked even more outraged. "Some gods just don't care," he muttered, angrily. "I can't believe that he would punish a god for looking out for her kid. That's just awful."

Harry nodded. "It is. And I _really_ dislike him for it."

Thalia snorted. "I'd have a stronger choice of words if I were in your place, Squirt," she said. "My mother's as useless as they come, so no great loss, but yours sounded like she cares."

"I thought so, too," Harry whispered.

"Harry!" he looked up at his name being shouted. The next moment, Silena had him in a grapple-hug. "Good to see you again!"

He gave her a smile, and hoped it was genuine. She frowned slightly, and stepped back. "What's wrong?" she asked. It seemed like he hadn't been able to make his smile genuine.

"We'll leave you Squirts to talk things out," Thalia said. "Harry, sorry about my dad. You're right. He's an ass sometimes."

"Thanks, Thalia," he said, as the Daughter of Zeus and Son of Hermes walked away.

"What's wrong?" Silena repeated, putting her hands on his shoulders, as if restraining him.

"Let's find the others, so I only have to explain it once," Harry suggested.

Silena was silent and stared at him for a few moments, before giving a short nod. "Fine, but that better be one hell of a tale," she said, releasing him.

"It is," Harry said, nodding sadly. As they turned to find the others, Annabeth was walking up. Before Harry could utter a greeting, Silena was already tattling on him. He pouted at her. She ignored him.

Shaking his head, he ignored Annabeth's repeated questions regarding what was wrong, and went to find his three other friends.

The three sons of Apollo were found, where else, on the archery range. All three were glad to see Harry, even if they, too, immediately saw that something was wrong.

Now that they were all together, Harry explained, in more detail than he had explained to Thalia and Luke earlier, what had transpired in the last couple days. As he talked, he was leading them on the trail towards the beach.

"Hey, wait!" Silena interrupted after he had told who his mother was. "Lady Tyche is the daughter of Lord Hermes and my mother! That makes you my nephew!"

Harry shot her a small grin. "I thought you'd like that fact. Auntie."

Silena laughed and grabbed him into a hug, nearly pulling him off his feet as she did so. "It's great that we're family now. Now go clean your room."

Harry burst out laughing. "I _knew_ that was going to be your first reaction!" he chortled.

Happy to see him smiling for real, Silena grinned at him. "Oh, there are plenty more chores I can have you do, nephew," he teased.

Harry grinned back. "Only if you don't mind me calling you _auntie,_ Auntie," he teased back.

Silena huffed and theatrically crossed her arms. "I'm not that old."

"Then you can't make me clean my room," he answered with a satisfied nod. Suddenly realizing that they weren't alone, Harry swallowed and looked at the others, who seemed mostly amused. Except for Annabeth, she looked like she was vibrating in place to know the bad news.

"So, mom asked why I wasn't with her chosen guardian," Harry said, and went on to explain the rest of what had happened.

By the time he finished his tale, they were seated on a small dune overlooking the ocean.

"That… that's awful," Annabeth said. "You just found her, and she didn't do anything really wrong."

Harry nodded, choosing not to divulge Hermes' work-around. If it got back to Zeus, Harry could see the angry King of Gods close the loophole on him.

Silena just hugged him. A few moments later, Annabeth hugged him from the other side. Being in the middle of two girls hugging him was a new experience, and Harry wasn't sure how he felt about it. It felt nice, though.

"We're not hugging you," Louis said for himself and the two Guys. "But we definitely commiserate. Gods are fickle and dangerous."

"Most of them aren't that bad," Harry said, "But essentially, yeah. They can be really scary. And Mister Zeus is just nasty."

"Agreed," Silena said, when the two girls finally released him.

"Maybe we should do something," Annabeth suggested. "Something to take your mind off things."

Harry shrugged. "Sure, I could do with some diversion. It's why I came down here. I was ready to run up the walls by myself. What do you have in mind?"

"A spar?" The daughter of Athena suggested, getting a groan from Silena and shaking heads from the three Sons of Apollo.

"I don't enjoy fighting," Harry deferred.

"There's not much we can do, being restricted to camp as we are," Silena said. "I would suggest we go Pegasus riding, but I know that you're not a fan of Pegasi."

"I just feel like they're sizing me up or something," Harry muttered.

Silena laughed softly. Harry ignored her. "Are you really restricted to camp? I heard that was the case, but it sounds really… restrictive. I like being able to just make a run for it when things go bad."

"Technically, it's for our own protection," Louis explained. "The scent of our Godly Parent clings to us, and it attracts monsters. They claim that being here at camp is the safest place for us, and we shouldn't leave without permission."

Harry, never fond of doing what adults told him to do, as that way usually ended up in pain or without food, grinned. "How about we go out? I'm sure Louis could be counted on as a 'responsible adult', and I can take care of transportation."

Louis looked like he didn't much care for being a responsible adult, but the Guys were immediately for it, as was Silena. Annabeth looked like she wanted to agree, but couldn't bring herself to do so without complaint.

"Where would we go, though?" she asked. "And for how long? I mean, we need to make sure that Chiron doesn't miss us, or he'd be so mad."

"Come on, live a little," Jim – or Jack? - encouraged the young Daughter of Athena. "Louis is the token adult, and with your brains, I'm sure nothing will go wrong."

Flattering her mind seemed to be the magic words Annabeth needed to be 'convinced'. While Louis still grumbled about being 'responsible' for a group of ingrate reprobates – whatever those were, Harry made a note to look it up later – the biggest problem was still where to go.

"I can take us through the fire anywhere in the world," Harry said after they had shot suggestions back and forth. "So, how about I try using my Luck abilities and throw a dart at a map of the world? See where Luck would take us?"

Annabeth looked like she was part appalled by relying on luck and part excited at being able to test his abilities. Louis and the Guys were laughing themselves silly, while Silena was just grinning widely.

Thus decided, they retreated to the Athena cabin, where everyone loitered around outside while Annabeth went inside for the largest world map the cabin had in its possession. With the map procured, they went to the arts and crafts building, where Annabeth spent her time unfolding the huge map and pinning it up against the wall, while Silena went and found Harry some darts.

He closed his eyes, but before he could throw, Silena stopped him. She tied a scarf around his head, over his eyes, to 'prevent him from cheating'.

Harry grinned, enjoying the banter. Keeping his eyes closed despite the scarf, he lifted the dart.

He focused on a good place to go, and felt his instincts come to life. Now that he knew they were his luck senses, or probability senses, or whatever his mother wanted to call them, he felt a lot more confident in them.

The instincts guided his hand, and he released the dart.

He could hear his friends draw a breath. "What is it? Where are we going?" he asked, removing the improvised blindfold.

"Rome," Annabeth said, sounding stunned. "It hit Rome."

"Cool! I've never been to Rome," Harry said, grinning. "It sounds like fun, and with the time difference, we can leave here early tomorrow morning, get there in the early afternoon, and return in the evening when it's still early afternoon here so nobody will miss us."


	17. Chapter 17

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 17**

Harry emerged from hearth at Camp Half-blood at precisely 8 am, wearing a small backpack, containing sandwiches for everyone, as well as a couple of bottles of water. Smiling to himself, he looked around for his friends.

Instead, his smile froze.

Louis, the Guys, Silena, and Annabeth weren't alone.

Chiron was with them.

Ice settled in Harry's gut. While he liked Chiron, the centaur was still an adult. Added to that, Harry was planning on taking his friends and breaking the rules. Stupid, arbitrary rules, but rules nonetheless.

Adults were trouble when rules were being broken. Mister Ares was right, it was better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, and now it was likely that Chiron would say 'no' and keep an eye on them to prevent them from going anyway.

"Hello everyone," Harry said, trying to remain 'normal', while keeping an apprehensive eye on the centaur.

"Annabeth tattled!" Silena tattled instead of a greeting, apparently not getting the concept of 'hypocrisy'.

"I did not!" Annabeth said back, crossing her arms. "I just wanted to let Chiron know what we were doing so he wouldn't get worried."

"Which, coincidentally, would be 'tattling'," Louis said with a grin, ruffling the blonde's hair, making her pout.

Chiron was keeping quiet as the demigods started debating the proper legal definition of 'tattling', while Harry kept a worried and apprehensive silence. The centaur's silence was unnerving him.

"So you were thinking about taking a trip to Rome, Lad?" the centaur finally asked, when it became apparent that Harry was going to keep quiet.

The boy nodded. "Yes, Mister Chiron," he replied honestly. A lesson he'd remembered well – when caught, admit to it. Lying would only make things worse.

"Quite a dangerous enterprise," the Trainer of Heroes noted.

Harry shrugged. "Not really. I can take everyone through the fire, both getting there and getting back. It's perfectly safe."

"Even across such distances?" Chiron wondered, peering down at the young demigod.

"Sure," the young boy replied, somewhat more at ease now that it became apparent that Chiron wasn't going to start yelling. "I took the fire to the Chinese Celestial Plane without issue. If I can get there, I can get anywhere."

Chiron was silent, apparently debating something to himself. "So it would seem," he finally admitted. "However, there are more dangers than just the trip."

"Millions go see Rome every year," Harry answered. Miss Athena would be cross with him if he gave up a debate without trying. He wondered when Chiron would pull the adult trump card and said 'because I said so, that's why'. Adults always pulled that card, so he was wondering how much more it would take and when it would show up.

"True. Those millions aren't demigods, however," Chiron said, reasonably.

"Statistically, at least some of them would have to be," Harry stated.

The Trainer of Heroes seemed to smile at the reply. Whether it was because Harry remained polite, or because the argument was well-crafted, or both, Harry didn't know. He took the smile as a positive, and felt some of the ice in his gut release.

"Rome is more than just a city, Harry," Chiron explained. "It is a historical place, with layers built upon layers. It once served as the capital of a large empire. Many things slumber in its depths. A visit to the Old Countries is never a good idea for a modern demigod."

Harry frowned. "What old countries do you mean, Mister Chiron?" he asked.

"The Mediterranean has been closed to demigods since the fall of Rome, Lad," Chiron said. "Plus, it is protected. The Pillars of Hercules are aptly named. Most of Europe is a bad idea for modern demigods because of it. Ancient monsters still roam the continent."

Harry smiled faintly. "I was born in the UK, Chiron," he answered. "Europe's my birth place. Well. Somewhat. Mostly."

Chiron gave a small laugh. "Yes, I remember your homeland's issues with 'the continent'. In any case, I do not feel this trip would be safe. A group of 6 demigods would be a prime attraction for monsters."

Harry pointed to Louis. "We've got our own responsible adult," he said, throwing the Son of Apollo under the bus without hesitation. Said Son of Apollo put on a brave grin while simultaneously trying to give Harry the stink-eye. Harry felt that he was failing at both.

Chiron gave another short laugh. "While I have trust in Louis'… responsibility… I do feel that one nearly-adult demigod wouldn't be sufficient protection for such a trip."

Harry blinked, and thought for a moment. That almost sounded like Chiron was giving him an opening for something!

Slowly, he grinned. "Would you perhaps like to come along, Mister Chiron?" Harry asked, reasonably sure that the Trainer of Heroes was trying to finagle an invitation out of him. He rather liked Chiron under most circumstances, and having someone around who actually experienced things firsthand could be highly educational.

The centaur laughed and shook his head. "I am needed here, and while I would love to see the old continent again, I have spent more than my fair share of time in its woods. No, I was thinking about someone else."

Harry remained silent for a few moments. "Please tell me it's Mister Dionysus," he said, sounding perfectly serious. Having the God of Wine along could be fun, he thought. His sarcastic comments could be just as much fun as Chiron's educational explanations would have been.

The five others looked horrified. Chiron burst out laughing. "While Mister D's reaction to me asking him to accompany you would undoubtedly be highly amusing, he wasn't who I had in mind either."

The boy waited for a few moments, then cocked his head when Chiron wasn't saying anything else. Without a doubt, the centaur found it funny to keep them in suspense.

"Do we know this mystery person who will be accompanying us, or will you have us guess, Mister Chiron?" Harry asked, somehow able to keep his tone friendly and not at all sarcastic. Hestia would look disappointingly at him if he used sarcasm.

Chiron shook his head. "I have a Satyr in mind. I do believe you will find him an excellent companion."

Louis suddenly got a smile on his face. "Is it Billy?"

Chiron sent the Son of Apollo a look. "Yes, it's Billy," he replied. "One day you need to learn not to steal my thunder, Lad."

"Excellent! it's Billy!" Louis cheered, ignoring Chiron's further reply. "You guys will _love_ Billy. He's the one who got me to camp. He probably has the world's biggest collection of jokes."

"No 'probably' about it, Sunshine," a voice stated from behind the demigod in question. As the demigods turned to face him, the satyr took off his hat and executed a perfectly acceptable courtly bow. "William Redwood, world's biggest purveyor of jokes, gags, and other funny stories, at your service."

"Billy!" Louis shouted, grabbed the satyr despite him still being swept up in his bowing, and gave him a huge bear hug.

Harry studied the newcomer. He was dressed like what early 20th century people would have called a 'mad inventor', with dark brown pants held up with suspenders, a light brown shirt, topped with a brocade vest, over which he had thrown a turn of the century tailcoat which he hadn't closed.

A small chain led to a pocket watch stuck in the satyr's breast pocket, and from a heavy belt around his waist dangled an old-fashioned sextant on one side and a box decorated with a wind rose on the other – obviously a compass of some kind.

He seemed funny enough, and was about as tall as Louis was, but built a fair bit stockier. He had two goat's horns on his head, which he was probably planning on hiding underneath the Victorian hat, complete with goggles that could be flipped down or up, that he was still carrying in one hand.

Harry knew Satyrs had goat legs, which they usually hid within prosthetics, and Billy appeared the be no different. Both his 'feet' appeared to be made from solid metal, giving the impression that the satyr had two robotic feet.

"Before I do give my agreement, though," Chiron said, interrupting the happy reunion, "I would like to know where you were specifically planning on traveling to. If I recall, you will need a burning fire at your destination, and those are not so common these days."

Harry grinned. "We're going to the Temple of Vesta," he answered. "The hearth is still there, even without a fire burning in it."

"Vesta's temple?" Chiron asked, suddenly looking worried.

Harry nodded enthusiastically, choosing to ignore Chiron's sudden worry. "Vesta's the name the Romans called Hestia with, and while most of the temple is in ruins, the hearth remains standing."

Chiron opened his mouth. Closed it. Thought for a moment. Opened his mouth again. "That..." the centaur tried, trailed off, thought for a moment, then added, "that's not… precisely…"

"I gazed yesterday evening, I can travel to it with no issue," Harry said, trying to quell Chiron's unease. "It's a perfectly valid destination for fire travel."

Chiron shook his head, seemingly struggling with something. The demigods looked at each other, then looked at Billy, who gave an elegant Victorian shrug, before they looked back to Chiron.

"Are you alright, Mister Chiron?" Harry asked.

The centaur rubbed his eyes. "There are many things that I am not at liberty to discuss," he finally said, before giving a large sigh. "If I forbid you from going, I feel that you will find a way to sneak out regardless."

"Probably true," Harry admitted truthfully. The demigods gaped at him, while Billy burst out laughing.

"The kid has stones, Boss," the satyr told Chiron.

"Billy, for the last time, I am not your boss," the centaur replied tiredly, still rubbing his eyes. It seemed this was a standing discussion between them. Drawing a breath, Chiron looked at Harry. "You can go, but please, for the love of the gods, be careful. That city is ancient and holds many secrets, and many dangers. Stay in the tourist areas."

Before Harry could say anything, the centaur turned to Billy. "Take _care_ of them. Or I _will_ hear why."

The satyr bowed with a flourish. "They shall be as safe as I can possibly make them, Boss."

Chiron sighed, and debated silently for a few more moments. The demigods, plus their temporarily assigned satyr, waited eagerly for his decision.

"Very well, you may go," he said. When they started cheering, the centaur had to shout to be heard. "HOWEVER!" They quieted down, and he resumed on a normal level. "However, I expect you all back no later than dinnertime tonight. I am well aware of the time difference between here and Rome, so that will give you plenty of time to explore the city. Dinnertime. Do not be late, or this first trip will be your _last _trip. And yes, Harry, I will inform Lady Hestia."

The boy closed his mouth. Having Hestia take away his fire traveling abilities – or worse – would be a disaster. He was pretty sure Hestia wouldn't go that far, but he couldn't take the risk, just in case.

"Agreed?" Chiron asked, when nobody dared utter a word.

They all nodded. "Very well, then. Have a safe trip."

"Thanks Chiron!" Annabeth shouted, first off the line. They all thanked the centaur, and Harry waved his hand to the fire, reaching out to the hearth located in Vesta's temple, in the heart of Ancient Rome.

He could feel fire igniting in it, right before the fire in front of him turned green. "Nice, connection established," he said with a grin, before turning to his companions. "Let's go!"

Billy grabbed his shoulder. "Not so fast," he said. "It behooves me, as your protector, to go first. So I shall."

Harry grinned, the guy spoke a bit like Miss Zoë would, only without using _thee_ or _thou_. The satyr smiled, dipped his head at them, and moved through the fire as if he did so every day. Harry smiled, he liked it when people trusted Hestia's abilities without hesitation.

"So, who's next?" he asked.

They all seemed to move at once, and before Harry realized it, he was left behind. Grinning, shaking his head, he moved to the fire and let it take him to Vesta's Temple.

"Here we are, safe and sound," Harry said as he joined his friends, who were gaping at the ruins of Vesta's temple, as well as the other ruined architecture around it.

The temple had been located next to the ancient Forum Romanum, and as such, had plenty of important neighbors in its day.

"So, where do we go… first..." Harry asked, trailing off, when the fire drew his attention. With a flare and a _whoosh_ that seemed incredibly familiar to him, a figure was deposited behind them.

For a moment, Harry thought that Hestia had joined him, and he actually took a step towards the figure, when his instincts warned him and he took a second look. Her features looked sharper than Hestia's, although she had the same hair color and the same kind of soft eyes. She was dressed in a simple brown robe that had subtle differences with Hestia's, but seemed to be made from the same kind of cloth.

"Ehm… hello?" Harry ventured. Maybe Hestia had a sister she hadn't told him about? This new visitor really looked like her!

"Visitors!" the figure said with a smile, before looking over her shoulder at the hearth. "It has been so long since the hearth in this temple was lit. Especially after it was completely demolished hundreds of years ago." She turned back to face the group. "Luckily, it was rebuilt some decades back."

She approached Harry. "My name is Vesta," she said, studying him intently. "And you carry the touch of Hestia upon you."

Harry nodded. "Hi Vesta," he said, trying to hide his confusion. He thoughts the Romans had just renamed the Gods? Vesta seemed different from Hestia! "I'm Harry. These are my friends," he motioned to the others, who seemed to have frozen and were trying not to be noticed.

"Welcome, all," the Roman goddess said after Harry finished introducing them. She focused back on him. "So it was you who relit my hearth here, in this ruined temple."

Harry nodded. "Hestia told me I can travel through fire, but I found the hearth here as a destination, and I could light it remotely."

Vesta smiled, but her smile was somehow sharper than Hestia's was. "Those of us who are of the Fire and the Hearth can share our resources," she explained. "You must be quite favored by Hestia for her to allow you this freedom."

"Hestia's great," Harry replied, nodding. He studied Vesta closer. "You look really like her," he added.

Vesta seemed amused. "That is normal. We share existence, after all," she answered, looking from Harry to his friends. "Although I am not sure that you were supposed to know that."

Harry blinked. "Ehm… sorry?"

The Roman goddess smiled. "I disliked that rule anyway. Family should be together."

"So there are Roman demigods, too?" Annabeth asked, surprised, before realizing she had just interrupted a goddess, and blushed. "Sorry, Lady Vesta."

"There are indeed Roman demigods, and they have their own camp," Vesta confirmed. "You may wish to be careful with your questioning, however. Roman deities are stricter and less forgiving than their Greek personas."

"Sorry, Lady Vesta," Annabeth whispered again, looking pale.

"Don't worry, dear, I know how that goes. Just a friendly warning, that's all," Vesta answered with a tiny smile. "I just wanted to see what went on in my old temple. I don't often get visitors here anymore."

She sounded sad about that.

Harry took a step, and had to physically stop himself from hugging her. She looked so much like Hestia. Instead, he decided on a verbal reply.

"I'm sorry to hear that. This place is really interesting," he said, looking out over the rest of the Forum.

"There are too many mortals around," Vesta explained, then seemed to gain a faraway expression. "This used to be my primary temple. It was beautiful. Before it burned down and was rebuilt. And it burned down again and was rebuilt again." She sighed. "Mortals were so careless back then."

"Mortals are still careless today too," Harry said with a grin.

Vesta laughed softly. "True." She smiled at him, and patted one shoulder. "I can see why my Greek self likes you, Harry. I should let you go on with your trip."

"Greek Self?" Annabeth asked, before slapping a hand in front of her mouth. "Sorry, Lady Vesta."

Vesta gave Athena's daughter a motherly sort of smile that seemed to come straight out of Hestia's repertoire. "Don't worry about it, Dear. We share existence, as I said. Same being, different names and personalities, depending on the differences between Greek and Roman."

"Like Multiple Personality Syndrome?" the inquisitive demigod asked.

Vesta seemed amused at the question. "Crudely stated, but on a very basic level, yes. Of course, there is more to it, the influence of different domains and different kinds of worship, but that would require a lecture that I am sure would both go on too long, and bore your friends."

Annabeth blushed. "Sorry, Lady Vesta. Thank you for explaining."

"No worries, Dear," the motherly Roman Goddess said. She looked at Harry, then at the others. "I should go. Have a safe trip, young ones."

"Thanks, Vesta!" Harry said excitedly, right before the goddess vanished.

"Well now, wasn't that interesting?" Billy stated, half to himself and half to his charges. "How about we have a look around the Forum before we go explore the city?"

Harry was all for it, as were the three sons of Apollo and Silena. Annabeth seemed subdued and quiet, lost in her own mind. That worried him, he had assumed that Annabeth, little architecture buff that she was, would immediately start spouting out facts and figures about the various buildings around them.

"Annabeth? Are you okay?" Harry asked, concerned, as he walked closer to her while the others were exploring a nearby ruin.

The girl blinked, seemingly coming back to the here and now. "Oh? Yeah, I'm fine," she said, still looking contemplative. She looked at him. "You know, I don't think I like the Romans," she then said.

Harry looked surprised, then glanced at the ruins of the Temple of Vesta nearby, drawing the attention of the others. They ambled closer. "We may want to walk off, I don't think we want to have this conversation near the temple of a Roman Goddess. It's not exactly polite."

The others agreed immediately, and together they set out. All of them remained quiet, looking at Annabeth, waiting to hear what had upset her.

Finally, the girl sighed. "Fine," she said. "Now that I know Roman gods exist, I'm upset over how they treated my mother. They turned her from a War Goddess into a goddess of arts and crafts with a minor focus on defensive actions. It was humiliating."

Harry nodded, as did the others.

"That was 2000 years ago, though," Harry said. "None of those Romans are alive today."

Annabeth shot him a glare.

"Of course, that doesn't mean you should just forget about it, either," he added, backpedaling.

The Daughter of Athena gave a sharp nod.

"Let's enjoy Rome instead," he said with a hopeful smile. "I'm sure there are lots of things for us to see."

Annabeth looked – nay stared – at him for a few moments. It was a stare that Harry had come to associate with Athena, and seeing it on the girl's face definitely proved she was the goddess in question's daughter.

Finally, she gave a sharp nod. "You're right," she said. "There's no sense is getting worked up over something that happened two millennia ago. Even if I won't soon forget it."

Harry grinned at her, and draped an arm over her shoulders. "I'm proud of you," he said on a teasing tone.

She shook the arm off with huff and a grin.

Silena, laughing, hugged Harry instead. "If you want someone to hug, I'm always available!" she said, continuing to laugh.

Annabeth pouted and the male contingent laughed. Harry felt great as he did so; he loved laughing and joking with his friends.

00000

At first, despite what Harry would have thought before, walking around a historic city with someone like Annabeth wasn't much fun. She was undeniably brilliant, and extremely interested in architecture of all kinds, and was therefore a font of useless facts and figures that bored regular people to tears.

After a quiet chat and some suggestions from Harry, she limited herself to interesting or amusing facts and the group became glued to her lips as she gave some interesting details about yet another historic building.

In between Annabeth educating them on fun facts of ancient Rome, Billy cheered up their bouts of walking with a nearly endless stream of jokes and clever word plays that had them all laughing until tears streamed down their cheeks.

A few hours later, the sandwiches and the bottled water were long gone. The late-August heat still got to the group despite Harry's water and they took a break outside one of the many, _many_ cafes dotted around the city. This one happened to have outside tables that overlooked the waters of the river Tiber. It was a very nice place to be, all in all.

While they sipped their cool (but not cold) beverages, Annabeth laughed and pointed out a couple that looked like Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn driving by on an old baby-blue Vespa.

'Gregory' and 'Audrey' waved amicably at the demigods and their Satyr as they crossed an old bridge over the river and disappeared from sight.

"Of all the things I expected to see in Rome, two lookalikes pretending to be from 'Roman Holiday', wasn't one of them," Annabeth confessed. "It was a fairly nice movie, even if it was a bit silly, don't get me wrong, but it's not something you expect people to imitate, you know?"

They all nodded and laughed and joked, and meanwhile their drinks level dropped.

After a second round, and feeling quite refreshed, the merry band paid (using euros that Billy 'just happened' to have), and went back to sightseeing.

Feeling a nudge from his instincts, Harry suggested they stay on the shores of the river Tiber and see what there was to see further downstream.

Seeing some buildings in the distance that looked interesting, Annabeth agreed, which pulled the others in as well and soon they were walking downstream.

They followed the river as best as possible, sometimes forced to follow the roads into the city before emerging from it further down.

"Why exactly are we following the river?" Louis asked Harry, after they had been walking for an hour.

Harry felt his instincts nudge him. "I have a feeling," Harry said. "It's like… if we do this, we'll find something. I can't explain it better, it's part of the skills I inherited from my mom."

"Good enough for me," Silena chirped. "If Harry's mom wants us to follow the river, I vote we follow the river."

Annabeth nodded in agreement. "Agreed. It's never a good idea to ignore things like this."

Louis and the Guys nodded as well.

Billy just shook his head. "That's looking for trouble, I reckon. Are we sure about following the kid's feelings across a 2500 year old city?"

The demigods, except Harry, huffed in perfect synchronicity.

"I thought you said he was cool," one of the Guys told Louis, while continuing to stare at the Satyr.

"I said he was funny," Louis defending himself. "And he has been. Up until now."

"Hey now," Billy protested.

"Maybe we should go home. The old man needs a nap," the second one of the Guys said. "Maybe we can wrangle another Satyr out of Chiron. You know, one with a spine."

Billy was pouting now. "That will teach me to try and be the voice of reason. I was just trying to point out danger, far be it for me to try and stop you. By invoking Horror Movie Rules, and pointing out potential danger, I will be the one who gets to say 'I told you so' and survive at the end of the adventure," he said, pout turning into laughter.

Harry laughed with him, not nearly as offended as the others had been on his behalf. "Fine. We get in trouble, you get to say 'I told you so'," he promised the Satyr.

"Good enough for me!" Billy exclaimed with a smile. "So, Navigator, which we do we go?"

Harry felt the nudge, but decided to play it up for fun. Pulling a six-sided die from his pocket, he said, "Odds, we go right. Evens, we go left."

"You're kidding, right?" Billy asked while the others were giggling or chuckling.

Harry rolled the die, and bent down to pick it up. As he had expected, the die told them to go in the direction he felt the nudge. "Four. Evens, we go left," he said, standing up and pocketing the die.

The group laughed at Billy's doubtful look, and started walking, the Satyr taking a few long strides to catch up. "You knew we had to go left, right?" he asked Harry.

"Yup," the boy replied with a grin.

Billy laughed. "What would you have done if it had been an odd number?"

"It wouldn't have been," Harry answered. "Son of the Goddess of Fortune, remember? Probability wants me to go left, so probability would make sure I rolled an even number."

Billy stared at his young charge for a few moments. "I'm never playing poker with you. Or any sort of game of chance. I'm definitely taking you to a casino and watch you clean up, though."

Harry laughed, and thought about Hermes' maths parties. He wasn't sure those were common knowledge, or even if he was allowed to tell mortals about them, so he kept them quiet. That didn't keep him from thinking about them, though.

"We need to go in there," Harry said, stopping them and pointing to a large marble building. Its front was covered in grime and residue from smog, but the demigods could still make out the underlying beauty.

It also had a massive entrance, barred with sturdy iron gates, and heavily padlocked.

"And me without my lock picks," Billy muttered sarcastically. "So your 'feeling' has us all arrested for breaking and entering into a historic building?"

"We need to go in _there_," Harry responded, ignoring the sarcasm, and pointing to a set of stairs leading down to a basement level.

Billy playfully grumped about this being a bad idea, and made a show about reluctantly following the curious group of demigods. His antics had them all grinning. Soon they had trouped down the stairs and were on the basement level, facing an old wooden door with a heavy-looking metal pull-ring.

Harry yanked on the ring, and the door remained shut.

"Breaking _and_ entering," Billy reminded them with a grin.

Annabeth leaned over to study a metal plate with a keyhole that was situated above the ring. In order to get a better look, she put her hand on the ring to pull herself up slightly.

The moment she touched the ring, a shape burned itself into the middle of the door.

It resolved into a silhouette of Athena's sacred animal, the owl. Smoke came from the keyhole the next moment and the door swung open by itself.

"Maybe we're about to enter Miss Athena's secret book club," Harry suggested, before grinning at Annabeth. "Lucky for us we brought the correct door key."

The daughter of Athena didn't know whether to be pleased or upset with the comment, and her resulting look at Harry was half-hearted.

"A dark hole underground, that's definitely never been an issue," Billy said with a smile that was less confident than it had been. "I once again would like to invoke horror movie rules. Never, _ever_, go into a basement," he added with a laugh.

"You don't want to see Miss Athena's secret book club?" Harry asked, innocently. "Because a secret book club is something I could see Miss Athena set up."

Annabeth nodded slowly as she thought about it. "Yeah," she finally said. "That's definitely something I could see my mom do. Make it a test of knowledge and wisdom before you get to enter or something. Maybe this building is at the end of a map or a set of clues or something, and Harry's abilities cheated our way here."

"Hey!" Harry protested.

The others laughed.

"I definitely want to see Miss Athena's secret book club," Harry said. "Who's with me?"

They all, including Billy, raised their hands.

"Billy? Change your mind?" Louis teased

The Satyr grinned. "I'm stuck between two Horror Movie rules – never go into the basement, and never go off alone. So either I go with you guys into the basement, or I end up alone up here. I'll take my chances with you guys."

"I feel loved," Louis said, theatrically.

"You should," Billy replied with complete honesty, before grinning. "If we end up in trouble, I'm working myself up to the 'I told you so' of a lifetime. Besides, if I left you guys, Chiron would have my horns on his wall."

They all laughed at the image.

"Probably have your skin as a rug, too," Louis added to the joke when their laughter started to peter out. Billy pulled an over-the-top dramatic face, but the other demigods had a good chuckle.

Fortified with laughter and joking, the group stepped through the doorway and into the dark.

After a few moments, their eyes started to adjust to the semi-darkness, and found themselves into a basement that was a hotchpotch of different architectures. Contemporary electrical wiring and modern plumbing was attached to ancient brick walls, and the ceiling was supported both by steel scaffolds and Roman marble pillars.

The room was stacked with crates, too – apparently someone had used it for a storage place at one time.

"Well, that's underwhelming," Louis stated coolly.

"That's Billy's fault – he kept saying that there was danger ahead," one of the guys replied. "So, obviously, we all expected a monster of some kind to leap out and eat our faces."

"This crate is filled with spools of string," Annabeth said, from where she had pried one of the crates open. "It has all kind of types and colors, too."

"This one has cheap knock-off gladiator swords," Silena said from another crate.

"Curiosity killed the cat," Harry admonished gently. "Whoever owns those won't be happy to see them broken into."

"But satisfaction brought it back," Silena snarked, although she did have a vaguely embarrassed look on her face. Annabeth, having closed her crate, looked about the same.

"Hey, look at this," Harry said, having explored deeper into the basement. He flipped a switch, and electric lights came on, illuminating what he was pointing to.

At the back of the basement, someone had done excavation work. A white marble set of steps had been uncovered, leading deeper.

At the bottom of the steps, an ancient Roman mosaic floor was decorated with pictures of Satyrs and other wildlife. Harry grinned at the sight of deer; Artie would love that scene, he thought.

The others had caught up by now, and were gasping their appreciation for the floor, which had obviously been the floor of some ancient villa of some kind.

"Whoa," Billy said. "That's awesome."

The others nodded in silence, and Annabeth, little architecture buff that she was, was already trying to correlate what she knew with what she was seeing, trying to figure out a time period.

The walls, exposed by the harsh electric lights, had obviously been painted at one time, but the paint had now mostly vanished.

The room was not that large, about 6 meters square, and the group could see its entirety from where they were standing on the steps. None wanted to be the first one to actually set foot on those exquisite mosaics.

"I wonder where that hole leads," Harry said, pointing to a corner on the far side of the room, where the mosaic had been pulled up and a hole had been created. "It feels like we ought to explore it."

Billy glanced to Harry. "If we damage those mosaics and have to pay for the damages, I am going to be very cross with you."

The boy grinned back in response. "This floor's been here for 2000 year or so. Who knows how many people walked on it? Besides, we're demigods, not hooligans. None of us will damage it, right guys?"

"Right," the two guys replied in unison, causing everyone to share a laugh.

Still, nobody set foot on the floor.

Until Silena groaned. "Oh, fine, you bunch of pussies," she said, and confidently strode onto the mosaic floor and over to the hole.

The spell broken, they all followed.

The hole dropped straight down into a large cavern. Deep below, they could hear water running, but the floor was invisible.

"It smells musty, like mold, not like a sewer," Annabeth said. "Maybe it's an old aqueduct line?"

"No way down, either," Louis said, looking at Harry. "Well now, mister 'we should explore the hole in the ground', how are we getting down there?"

Annabeth nodded. "Because I'm not jumping, if that's what you're thinking."

Almost like an answer, something glowed from beneath them. Athena's owl blazed into being at the bottom of the cavern, revealing a brickwork canal 12 meters below. The fiery symbol taunted them with its presence.

"Well, it seems like we have to go that way for Miss Athena's secret book club," Harry said, pointing to the owl.

"I don't think it's a book club," Annabeth muttered. "Mom wouldn't put one this deep. The humidity is too high to have a book club here. The books would rot in days."

"Whatever it is, it's that way," Harry repeated, still pointing to the owl.

"I vote with Billy. Let's not taunt Murphy. I could do with one of those famous Italian ice creams," one of the guys said.

The other guy nodded. "I'm with him."

Harry pouted at them. "You're going to leave me, Annabeth, and Silena down here to explore that aqueduct by ourselves?"

Silena and Annabeth turned to look at him. "Why are _we_ staying?" the daughter of Aphrodite asked.

"It involves Annabeth's mom, so she _has_ to stay," Harry answered. "And she's my friend, so I am staying with her. That means that you, as a better friend than those pillocks, will be staying as well," he added with a cheeky smile. His eyes showed his worry, though.

Annabeth nodded reluctantly. Silena sighed, and nodded as well. "Yeah, we're staying." she looked at the three sons of Apollo and the Satyr. "You guys go eat ice cream. We'll explore that creepy hole in the ground and find Annie's mom's secret whatever it is."

Billy, Louis, Jack, and Jim shared a look. They sighed in unison. Then their shoulders dropped.

"Fine, we're staying," Louis declared. "We couldn't just leave you cute little children here by yourselves!" he added, and grabbed Silena under one arm, and Annabeth under another.

The two girls protested, before Silena stomped hard on Louis' foot, and Annabeth tried to bite the arm holding her. The Son of Apollo released them immediately.

"Cute little children?" Silena asked with an arched eyebrow.

Louis grinned. "More like cute little ragemonsters," he replied, grin widening. "Anyway, we're staying. This'd better be worth it!"

Harry felt a nudge. "I'm sure it is," he said. "We still need to find a way down there, though." he felt another nudge from his probability senses, and didn't know why he asked, "is there anything we can use for a ladder, or something we can make a ladder out of?"

Annabeth's eyes lit up. "Wait here!" she ordered, and raced off, climbing the marble steps back to the basement.

"She's mental," Louis muttered.

Harry elbowed him. "She's just driven," he defended his friend.

Within minutes, Annabeth was back, glowing with pride, carrying in her arms something built from string and plastic swords.

Proudly, she unrolled her creation; it was a rope ladder made by twisting and braiding string for strength, without becoming too thick. Every so far, a plastic sword had been incorporated into the makeshift ladder for hand- and footholds.

"Tada!" she said, victoriously, as the ladder unrolled down the hole. When the end reached the bottom, she tied it to one of the support columns of the ancient villa room.

"That is brilliant," Harry said with a large grin.

"Definitely!" Silena agreed, laughing. "Brilliant use of those supplies, Annabeth!"

The daughter of Athena looked like she couldn't be prouder.

"I just hope those swords hold my weight," Louis complained.

"Or mine," Billy seconded. "Nice work, but… plastic swords? Really?"

Annabeth turned her head, as if their comments were beneath her.

"Maybe we should put the old men on a diet first," Jack – or Jim – teased. "I, for one, am looking forward to exploring the dark and dank cave of utter mystery."

"Dark and dank cave of utter mystery?" Harry asked, surprised.

The guy shrugged. "It makes it sound less scary and more mysterious," he answered with a grin. "Before Billy and Louis start complaining about danger again."

Harry felt another nudge. He frowned, not having expected it. The nudge from his instincts came back, stronger. Shrugging, he stood up. "One second," he told the others, and backtracked.

With some amusement, they all watched him go. He returned five minutes later, his backpack significantly fuller. "I gathered a backpack full of string, you never know if Annabeth needs to weave another rope-ladder," he joked.

The others nodded. That made sense.

"I'm first!" Silena suddenly shouted, scurrying down the rope ladder as if she were born to it.

Annabeth blinked. "Hey! it's _my_ ladder! I should go first!" she shouted down at the descending daughter of Aphrodite.

"Whoa!" Silena shouted up at them. "Be careful, there's a canal in the middle of the tunnel, with a ledge on either side. Make sure you hit the ledge when you come down!"

"Thanks for the warning!" Annabeth shouted down, before making the trip herself.

Once Annabeth shouted that she had made it safely down, Harry made his way down before anyone could complain about it.

The guys made it down, too, although the swords did bend underneath their feet. They bent back on their own, so nobody was too worried.

Louis seemed less keen, but drew a breath and forced himself to descend. All the way down, he could feel the swords bend worrisomely. Keeping his eyes closed, he repeated a little mantra. When he reached the floor, he resisted the urge to fall to his knees and thank his father for a safe passage.

"Your turn, Billy!" he shouted up the hole instead.

"Do I _have_ to?" the Satyr asked. "Satyrs don't do well underground! Everything smells the same! I can't detect any monsters here!"

One of the guys looked up. "You can always go back and tell Chiron you left us here!"

"That's playing dirty," Billy shouted back, but soon they heard him descending. The swords and the twisted strings complained, but held out as the Satyr made his way down, and soon they were all reunited at the bottom.

Luckily, they had all managed to miss the canal that ran down the middle, and were able to land on the brickwork edges instead. Freezing-cold water ran at a quick pace down the center canal, which thankfully looked like it was maybe five or ten centimeters deep.

The tunnel seemed intact, and for a moment the entire group seemed to debate on which way to go.

"I think it's that-" Harry said, pointing in one direction. Suddenly," Athena's owl blazed to life in the direction he had been pointing, about 20 meters down the tunnel. "Way," he finished redundantly.

"Nah!" Billy said sarcastically. "The big burning owl is just trying to mislead us!"

Harry shook his head, smiling. Annabeth huffed theatrically. "If that is how you think of my mother's sacred animal, then we have nothing else to talk about," she said imperiously, resolutely turning away.

Billy laughed in turn. Annabeth managed to keep up the pretense for about ten seconds, before bursting into giggles. It felt good to be able to laugh, this deep under ground.

"We don't have any light, though," Silena pointed out.

Billy grinned, pulled open one flap of his tailcoat, reached in, and pulled out a flashlight. "Always be prepared, my dear," he told her imperiously.

"I never figured out how he did that," Louis told the others. "But whenever something like this comes up, he has a tool to help. Flashlights, knives, screwdrivers."

The Satyr smiled and pulled out a small set of screwdrivers, and a small pocket knife. "Lots of inner pockets," he explained. "Lots and lots of inner pockets. That, and experience – whenever I need something I don't have, I find a pocket version and put it in a pocket so it doesn't happen again."

Harry frowned and looked at him. "That makes you sound _old_," he said. "Just how old _are_ you?"

The Satyr smirked. "Turned 52 two months ago," he said proudly, chest stuck out.

"You have to share your secrets, then," Silena said, suddenly very interested in the conversation. "Because you don't look a day over 25. Most girls will kill you for that secret."

The Satyr smiled widely. "Be a Satyr, my dear, and you'll age at half the rate of you humans. I look 25 when I'm actually 50."

The daughter of Aphrodite pouted. "The money I could have made bottling your secret anti-aging formula..." she complained.

Annabeth was vibrating. "Can we go on?" she demanded. Then, realizing she had been too bossy, she added, on a softer tone, "please?"

Harry smiled, and draped an arm over her shoulders, which was a bit awkward on the narrow ledge. "Let's go," he offered. "Billy? Can you go on front with the flashlight?"

The Satyr mock-complained while he got to the front, his strong torch creating a beam of white in the darkness.

"You can give me the light if you prefer," Harry offered. "I don't mind going first."

Billy grinned over his shoulder, the movement half-hidden in shadow. "I'd never hear the end of it if I get you killed," he replied. "So I'm sticking in front."

"Hestia would be sincerely disappointed in you if I ended up in Mister Hades' care," Harry added with a nod.

Billy shuddered at the very idea of the kind and gentle Goddess of the Home being upset with him. He'd rather face an angry Chiron.

They reached the point where the owl had been, it having faded quite some time ago. Billy pressed on, but Harry stopped them.

"I think we need to go this way," the boy said, pointing to a hole pounded in the wall with some heavy object. Billy shone the torch down the hole, revealing it went down into a narrow Roman room with another mosaic floor. Benches lined the walls, like some kind of Roman waiting room.

On the other end of the room was an altar of some kind, made of stone. Billy stuck his head down the hole, and found that in the wall near the hole was a door, but it had been filled in with masonry.

He pulled his head out and relayed to the others what he had seen and found.

"That definitely sounds like Lady Athena's secret book club meeting room," Louis said with a half-joke. "Maybe it was an old shrine to her?"

The others nodded agreeably, and Harry grinned as he clambered through the hole without waiting for anyone. He jumped the last 30 centimeters to the mosaic floor, then helped Annabeth and Silena down. The three sons of Apollo and their Satyr companion were tall enough to just lower themselves to the floor.

While Harry watched them get down, Annabeth studied the room. "I don't like the look of the ceiling," she told them. "Stress fractures everywhere, and the capstone of that arch has broken in half. We may not want to spend a lot of time here."

Silena was studying the rest of the room, meanwhile. The mosaics on the floor depicted various animals and people, starting with a crow, then a lion, followed by a couple of Roman warriors with different weapons. The final three pictures were too damaged to make out.

She took a step forward, heard something crunch, and looked down to find the entire floor covered with skeletons. Skeletons that hadn't been there a moment earlier, when she studied the mosaics.

She let out a squeal.

"Silena? What's..." Harry's voice trailed off at the sight of the many skeletons that littered the floor. "Those weren't there earlier."

Silena didn't reply, but had instead grabbed Harry into a monumental hug and buried her head in his shoulder.

"Creepy," Louis declared.

"Not Lady Athena's hidden clubhouse," Billy confirmed with a nod while he studied one skeleton that looked more complete than the rest, dressed in renaissance clothing. The skeleton's frilled collar, and its skull, had been heavily burned. "This place is definitely giving me the creeps." He pointed to a statue that was placed on the stone altar, of a man that had sunk halfway into the rock, holding up a torch and a dagger. "Do you guys think _that_ has something to do with this guy being burned?"

"From the amount of bones here, more than one poor schmuck got killed here," one of the guys said softly.

"Let's head back," Annabeth muttered fearfully. "I vote we talk with my mom first." she turned, then gasped. The hole they had come through had disappeared.

_Intruders_, en ethereal voice spoke, sounding through the chamber as if coming from everywhere and nowhere.

_Inexcusable,_ a second voice answered the voice, sounding just as otherworldly. A low rumble went through the space, making dust fall from the unstable ceiling and causing the floor under their feet to wobble up and down like a miniature earthquake.

Along the benches, a dozen ghosts became visible, glowing men dressed in Roman robes made of purple cloth. They glared angrily at the mortals, as if they had been interrupted in a meeting.

Billy bleated like a goat, ran to the bricked-up door, and started pounding on the brickwork, before shoving his shoulder against it and trying to push open the passage. Louis was right next to him.

"Ghosts!" Harry said, excitedly. "Cool!"

The two girls and the two Guys gave him a flat look, before turning to look at the newly arrived apparitions. At the other side of the room, behind the alter, a ghost who looked like he might actually be as old as the room was, got shakily to its feet as if hampered by arthritis.

"Identify and explain yourselves!" he barked when he managed to reach the altar.

"I'm Harry!" Harry said, smiling widely. "And we're just passing through, as soon as our companions manage to open the door," he added, pointing to where Billy and Louis were still trying to shove a solid brick wall out of the way. Both looked like they would have preferred Harry hadn't drawn attention to them.

The old ghost stared hard at the young boy. "This is the cavernous altar of the God Mithras," the old ghost declared theatrically. "You have disturbed the sanctity of our rituals! None can look upon our mysteries and live!"

"Well that's not very nice," Harry admonished. "Besides, we didn't see anything. We'll just pound down that exit over there and be on our way."

The ghosts actually seemed to debate the idea, as they babbled to each other in Latin. Unfortunately for Harry, while he had learned a great many things since Hestia took him under her wing, Latin wasn't one of them. He glanced at the others – they all shook their heads. None of them knew Latin either.

The old ghost snapped something, and silence descended. "Who are you descendant from!?" he demanded Harry.

"I'm the son of Tyche," Harry answered honestly. The ghosts muttered angrily.

"A Greek god!" the old ghost shouted. "Greek gods don't hold power here! This is the shrine of Mithras, God of the Roman Warriors, God of the Legion, God of the Empire!"

"He wasn't even Roman!" Annabeth protested. "Wasn't he Persian or something!?"

Harry looked proudly at her for knowing that tidbit, and the young demigoddess pulled herself up at the sight of it.

"Sacrilege!" the old ghost shouted as if stung by a wasp, banging his staff on the floor to billow for silence. "Mithras protects us! As Pater of this brotherhood-"

"Pater means 'father'," Annabeth said to the others. She had hoped to be quiet enough, but the old ghost had the ears of a fox.

"Do not interrupt!" he snarled at her. "I must protect our sacred secrets! It is my duty!"

Annabeth seemed to be getting into the spirit of things, if the angry color on her cheeks was anything to go by. "_What_ secrets!? A dozen ghosts in a creepy cave?"

Harry chuckled at the angry reaction of the sitting ghosts, but the old ghost – the pater – got them silent by sticking his fingers in his mouth and letting out a piercing whistle.

Harry could have admired it, if only the old ghost wasn't so crotchety.

"Unbeliever!" the old ghost shouted, pointing a bony finger in Annabeth's direction. "Like the others, you must die!"

Harry blinked and looked at the skeletons on the floor with a new eye. The Renaissance skeleton with the half-melted face suddenly got new meaning. He looked from the skeleton to Silena, then to Annabeth, before making eye contact with the Guys. They all shared a similar look on their faces.

The pounding of Billy and Louis intensified.

"And what if we don't want to die?" Harry asked. "You're all ghosts. You can't touch us."

"Kill them!" one ghost, the one seated closest to Harry and the two girls, snarled. He leapt up and tried to throttle Harry. He passed through the boy harmlessly.

"You're dead," Annabeth snapped at him. "Sit down, you're embarrassing yourself and your brotherhood." Her eyes were furiously scanning the room in the mean time. The ghost did indeed look embarrassed, and sat down with his head bent and shoulders hunched.

"You've got different levels," the daughter of Athena added. "With rites of passage. Seven levels, with Pater as the top."

"How does she know this!?" one of the ghost shouted out.

"I'm daughter of Athena," Annabeth answered coolly. Somewhere in her deep grey eyes, something had ignited. She was in her element now, using her skills to deduce the truth behind this chamber.

"The girl knows our secrets!" a second ghost snapped, before turning to look at the old ghost. "Hopefully she doesn't know the ordeals-"

"Silence!" the pater snarled. "Be quiet!"

"The ordeals!" Annabeth shouted. "I know them!" The ghosts gasped again, and Harry's grin widened. He looked at Silena and the guys, and suddenly they were enjoying this too. The danger went out of it when your opponent couldn't touch you. Especially when you got involved into a fight with words and had the daughter of Athena on your side.

"Ridiculous!" The pater yelled. "You lie! Choose your way of death, daughter of Athena. Or let the god choose for you!"

"Fire or dagger," Annabeth declared, her eyes locked on to the statue on the altar. Harry studied it, finally noticing the dagger and the torch in the statue's hands. He could see where Annabeth got her guess from.

The pater looked as stunned as his congregation, and Harry shared another victorious grin with his friends.

"Kill her!" A ghost took up the shout once more. Annabeth's gaze focused on the sigil of a raven pinned to the ghost's toga. She looked at him with as much disdain as an eight year old demigoddess was able to generate. Considering she was the daughter of Athena, and had inherited her famous glare, that was quite a bit.

"You are just a raven, of the lowest rank," she told the ghost who had shouted for their deaths. "Be silent and let your betters speak."

The ghost hunched down. "Mercy," he whispered.

"We do not need to kill you ourselves," the pater said, suddenly speaking normally, but his eyes burning with hatred. "Mithras will do that for us."

The statue on the altar started to glow.

"Now," the pater continued. "Choose an ordeal. Fire. Or dagger."

Harry stepped forward. "If I choose an ordeal, can I take it for the entire group?"

The pater blinked and looked at Harry, as if having forgotten he was there. He laughed. "Survive one. Then perhaps."

"Harry? What are you doing?" Annabeth asked.

"I am immune to fire," Harry whispered to her. "Hestia herself made it so."

The daughter of Athena looked like she had forgotten that tidbit, then leaned in closer. "This is godly fire, though. It may not count."

"Hestia said no fire would harm me, so no fire will harm me," Harry replied softly. "I trust Hestia."

Annabeth looked like she disagreed, but pulled back with no other arguments coming to mind.

"I choose fire," Harry said, stepped forward resolutely.

Annabeth bit the nail on her thumb. Silena scooted closer and pulled the girl into a hug. Annabeth hugged her back. Suddenly, the two Guys had surrounded htem, and were hugging them too.

"We felt like a hug, don't think we're scared or worried or anything," Jack said.

"Yeah, it's a totally normal yet completely random need for a hug," Jim added.

"Thanks, Guys," Annabeth whispered.

They didn't reply, and just hugged her harder. Still, the daughter of Athena's mind worked.

Harry had reached the pater by now. The statue was glowing a vibrant yellow. Annabeth gasped when an idea came to her. "Hide me from their sight, and prepare to yell to Harry to come over here," she told the people hugging each other.

The two guys slid apart slightly, letting little Annabeth Chase slip between them without the ghosts noticing. Taking her dagger, she jumped up and struck at the broken capstone. Her celestial bronze weapon shattered it like spun sugar.

For a moment, she looked proud. Then worried, when nothing happened. Then proud again when the room shook, and the cracks widened.

"Now!" she shouted. "Harry! Over here!"

Harry, still waiting for the ordeal to start, looked up from the white-hot glowing statue to the cracking ceiling and made a run for it, just before bricks started falling from the arches. Louis and Billy let out an inarticulate yell as the bricks unexpectedly gave way. Before anyone could jump, Billy had shone the torch down the passageway.

"Deep drop!" he yelled, turning around and lowering himself by his hands. "I'll drop first and catch you guys!"

With the room collapsing around them, they hardly had the time to spare. Louis half-jumped half-lowered himself. The guys lowered themselves onto a waiting Louis and Billy, and managed to get down without scrapes. The three children basically had to jump for it and trust that the others would catch them.

Harry felt his instincts nudge, gave Annabeth a push, waited two seconds, closed his eyes and mouth to prevent breathing dust and debris, and half-pushed Silena. He wanted to take a deep breath, but knew it would be a folly to do that in the middle of a collapsing room. Luckily, he was in a doorway, and doorways were the sturdiest place to be in an earthquake. Or so he'd been told.

That fact was the only thing that saved his life, as he jumped right before the arch of the passageway collapsed where he had been standing. He hoped his instincts were right this time. They'd gotten him into a major trouble. Again.


	18. Chapter 18

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 18**

He didn't fall far before a couple of strong arms captured him, and delayed his fall enough so he landed on the ground without so much as a bruise.

Billy's flashlight illuminated the passage they had come through, revealing dust and smoke rising from it, and that it was now completely barred. It was also 3 meters off the ground, and they could have seriously hurt themselves if Billy hadn't warned them beforehand.

The light shone around the room they were in, revealing decayed timbers that obviously used to be stairs but had rotted away and collapsed eons ago. The floor was simple sandstone, the ceiling was two stories tall. The room itself was devoid of any cracks or other signs of instability that had plagued the shrine of Mithras.

One corner held some ancient pottery, some wooden crates that appeared intact but could be crumbling to dust, and some wicker boxes bound with leather straps.

The only exit was on the far wall, and appeared to be a dark tunnel of some kind that the flashlight couldn't penetrate at this distance. A small brick trench cut through the room, allowing free-flowing water to move from left to right across the room.

"Harry," Billy declared after he finished his scan on the room.

"Yes, Billy?" Harry asked, looking at the Satyr, finding that the Satyr in question was staring down at him.

"I _told_ you so," he declared.

Harry blinked, needing a moment to remember, then nodded shyly. "Sorry, Billy."

The Satyr shook his fist mock-angrily, then sighed theatrically, causing a few solitary smiles on the faces of the group. "Well, nothing we can do about it now other than explore that tunnel over there," he added, pointing to the tunnel. "I'm just glad we all came through in one piece."

Louis nodded, looking up at the passageway. "If you hadn't looked first, we'd have gone splat," the son of Apollo said.

"Lucky you had that flashlight," one of the guys added.

Billy smiled tightly. "Experience, kids. Experience. And you don't want to know more. Trust me."

"Note to self," Louis said. "Put trust in the words of the Satyr who's gotten countless demigods to camp."

Billy laughed. "Unless you're addled and can't count higher than two, 'countless' is stretching it, Louis."

They all smiled again, appreciating the Satyr trying to make light of the situation.

"I just want to know how you knew when you jump," Louis said, turning to the three youngest. "You came flying from that dust cloud right as we were ready. If you'd jumped sooner, we'd have missed. If you'd jumped later, you all might not have made it, you were cutting it really close. Especially you, Harry."

The two girls looked at Harry. "I _was_ angry at you for pushing me," Annabeth said, "But thanks, Harry."

Silena nodded in agreement, and followed her thanks up with a hug. Annabeth, deciding that she liked hugs too, joined.

"I just… felt like it," Harry explained, hugging his two friends. "Something told me to wait, and I just… knew… when you were ready, that's when I pushed Annabeth and Silena. I waited until I knew I could jump."

"In other words, you _lucked_ into it," Louis said, shaking his head. "It's a good thing you did, because we took longer than I liked to get to the ground and ready to catch anyone. And after I caught Annabeth, we took a tumble so it took a few seconds for me to get up again while Billy was catching Silena. I had this nasty premonition of you breaking an ankle or something."

Harry smiled tightly. "I'm just glad we all made it. Without Billy and his flashlight and foresight to check, it'd be bad."

They all nodded, and in turn voiced their appreciating to the Satyr. Billy blushed, and waved it off as doing his duty.

Harry knelt next to the free-flowing stream, dipped one finger into it, and tasted it. It tasted fresh and clean. "This water is cool and drinkable," he announced while dipping his hands into it. "If anyone's thirsty, here's your chance." He cupped a mouthful of water from the stream and drank.

"How do you know?" Annabeth wondered, kneeling down next to him and inspecting the water. The others joined them, but nobody drank.

"Miss Zoë decided that, since I like drinking from open water, then she'd made sure I knew how to determine if it is contaminated or not," Harry explained. "Normally, you'd want to boil it to make sure, but this water tastes like it came straight out of bottle."

"Good enough for me," Silena said, grinning, and cupping her own share. The others nodded, and drank as well, Billy forgoing his hands and simply dropping to his belly and drinking straight from the stream.

Annabeth looked unsure, but finally decided that it was better to drink and need some medicine later than to not drink and die of thirst. Who knew how long it would be before they had a chance to drink again?

They all drank greedily, none of them realizing how thirsty they were until now.

After hydrating, Harry filled up his empty water bottles while the rest explored the room – not that there was much to explore. The ceramic vases were empty. There were some brown… things… that may, at one point, have been fruits or plants left in tribute.

The crates had half-worn-off lettering on them, reading _Hermes Express_. Harry grinned, his grandfather delivered all kinds of useful items, and he wondered if these crates still held anything. Opening the crates revealed empty bubblewrap packaging material; whatever had been in the crates had been removed ages ago. They all groaned with disappointment.

Cautiously, they approached the arch over the darkened hallway that was their only exit. Athena's owl blazed above it, before vanishing.

"Well, we know where to go," Louis said.

"Yup," Billy replied.

They fell silent. Nobody moved.

"Don't all rush in at the same time," Billy joked. Nobody laughed.

After a few more seconds, Harry sighed. "You're all so very brave," he said, shooting them all a teasing grin. "Let this nine-year-old show how it's done." Whistling, he stepped out. Billy groaned, and joined him at the front, since he had the only flashlight.

The passage was straight and smooth, and Billy's flashlight illuminated it clearly. Still, they went slow and checked for traps.

"I can't believe that we had to deal with ghosts," Louis said, "That scared the hell out of me."

"Ghosts are cool," Harry deflected. "And they were funny. Watching Annabeth bat them around verbally was hilarious."

Annabeth laughed. "It felt like getting into a battle of wits with unarmed men," she chortled. "Funny, but unsportsmanlike."

Silena and the guys laughed. Billy and Louis muttered under their breath.

"Come on," Jack – or was it Jim? – said to the two oldest members of their party. "It was pretty funny, you had to admit."

"Especially when that one ghost tried to attack us and went straight through Harry," the other guy added. "The look Annabeth gave him when she told him to shut up and sit down was _brilliant_."

Annabeth seemed to puff up her chest. "It was pretty good, wasn't it?" she asked.

Harry laughed. "I didn't know ghosts could look that embarrassed," he replied.

A sickly sweet smell hit them, and conversation dropped off for a few moments.

"What _now?_" Louis asked. "More ghosts?"

Annabeth frowned, and put one ear to the wall. "Hush for a moment," she told them all, and listened intently. They all hushed at the look of concentration on her face.

"There are voices," she whispered, as if afraid they might be overheard. "Whispers. I can't make them out."

Harry, who had been the first to copy her, nodded. The others followed suit, and for a few minutes, they all stood, in silence, listening to the strange sounds coming from the wall of the tunnel.

"Like a million tiny voices," Billy said. "They're coming closer, too."

"Make a run for it?" Louis suggested. "Back where we came from, or straight on 'till morning?"

Harry pointed ahead. Billy pointed back. Billy gave a pointed look to Harry. Harry gave an innocent smile to Billy. Annabeth, rolling her eyes, pointed ahead. Silena, grinning, silently pointed ahead too. The guys, laughing silently, joined them.

Louis sighed silently, shared a look with Billy, and pointed onwards, too. The Satyr pouted, shrugged, nodded, and stopped pointing back, and pointed forwards instead.

They all shared a laugh. A silent one. Then they set a strong pace and started walking forward at a fast gait. The youngest members were practically running to keep up with the older members' long, strong, strides, but they were in excellent shape and kept up.

The voices seemed to gather, and were now coming audibly from around them without a need to put their ears to the wall.

Annabeth let out a squeak, then slapped her hands against her mouth. They all stopped and stared at the daughter of Athena.

She pointed at the walls, now covered in cobwebs. "Spiderwebs," she whispered. "My mother… arachnophobia," she stuttered out the words. Most of them nodded. Silena looked confused for a moment, then accepted the friend's phobia.

Harry just nodded, and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Spiders are harmless," he replied. "Leave them alone and they'll leave you alone."

Annabeth shook her head. "Because of what happened with Arachne, spiders hate my mother, and they hate her children. They'll come after me, bite me, spin their webs on me. They seek me out."

Harry tightened his arm. "Then we'll be here to help drive them off," he answered calmly. "I rather like spiders, so I'm not afraid of them."

Annabeth looked embarrassed that she needed the reassurance, but buried in his shoulder regardless.

"Come on," Billy said. "No sense going back, there's no way out that way. Let's push on."

They all nodded, even if Annabeth's nod looked a bit weak.

As they walked on, the webs became thicker, slowly filling the tunnel until they were forced into single-file, before the one at the front had to stop and start clearing them out before they hit their faces and got tangled in their hair.

Harry didn't mind, but everyone else seemed to, so he enjoyed himself with wiping away the silver curtains that were 'blocking' the tunnel. Billy, who was right behind him, only had to take care of the webs on top as those were outside of Harry's easy reach. Luckily for the others, Billy was the tallest of them so they all could pass through without further issues after Harry and Billy finished.

Finally, they reached the end of the long passageway, and found a door that had been filled up to Billy's waist with old lumber; as if someone had taken the time to barricade the opening.

The party shared a look, that couldn't be good. Everywhere they'd come, they'd found signs of previous travelers, the skeletons in the shrine of Mithras, the empty crates in the room beyond, the broken staircase, and now this barricade.

A lot of people had tried to travel these same passages. Why?

They had, by some unvoiced agreement, decided to keep the barricade intact. Whoever had built it had done so for a reason, and it may come in handy. So, they crawled over the barricade, managing to do so without getting too many splinters. The wood was old and fragile and splintered easily, so this was no easy feat.

They emerged into a room the size of a basketball court; the floor was done with ancient Roman mosaics, and the remains of torn tapestries still hung from the walls. Two unlit torches sat in sconces on either side of the door, both covered in cobwebs.

Suddenly, their eyes were drawn to the other side of the room, where Athena's owl burned brightly over another doorway.

Unfortunately, crossing this room would not be easy, as the chamber was bisected by a deep chasm that was 15 meters across, with the only safe passage seemingly being two beams that crossed it. They were too far apart to be used by both feet, and too narrow to use as balance-beams for the nearly adults.

As they studied the strange wooden beams crossing the chasm, the noise coming from the corridor behind them intensified, and Annabeth let out another terrified squeak when spiders started to appear.

Not very large ones, but well-fed, and midnight black. Harry eagerly stepped forward and threw a look into the rest of the corridor, being able to see thanks to Billy bravely shining his torch down the corridor from back where he was standing.

"Ooh, it's an entire army," Harry announced.

"Don't sound so impressed with the army of spiders, Potter!" Annabeth squealed.

Harry threw her a grin. "They're just spiders," he teased her, causing her to pale and take a step back. Which, coincidentally, nearly made her spill into the chasm if Louis hadn't grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Thanks, Louis. I am really, _really_, scared of spiders," the blonde gratefully thanked her savior.

"Harry, stop teasing her," Billy ordered, making the boy pout. "We need to stop that army, who knows how venomous they are?"

Harry pouted deeper. They were just spiders, he didn't get why everyone was getting so upset. When he saw the first spider crawl across the barricade, and ignore him, he watched it intently. It made a beeline straight for Annabeth, who screamed again, right before Louis stomped it flat. The second and third spider crossed together and did the same thing, before meeting a similar fate.

Fine, it seemed these spiders really _did_ have it in for Annabeth. Harry looked at the approaching army. "Please stop doing that," he told them. "I don't want to hurt you."

It seemed that he didn't possess spider-speak the way he possessed snake-speak, as they kept coming.

Suddenly, music drifted from the room and into the hallway, freezing the spiders in their track. Harry looked over his shoulder, wondering where it was coming from.

Billy had pulled out a pan-flute, and was playing a beautifully haunting melody on it that Harry was sure he would be able to remember for the rest of his life. The music seemed to hang in the air, and seep into the ground and the walls and his very bones. Entranced, he listened.

"Nobody," Billy said, stopping only a moment before resuming play, "do," more music, "something," he finished sarcastically, before playing more music.

The interruptions broke the spell, and Harry blinked. The spiders were stopped, but he didn't know how long Billy could keep this up. Already, sweat was beading on his forehead.

Harry sighed, and looked at the two torches. He grabbed one, used Hestia's gift to ignite it, and thrust it at the cobwebs.

The webs caught immediately, and the fire _roared_ through the corridor like a rampaging herd of elephants, burning spiders by the thousands. Harry stood, and watched, a look of sadness on his face.

Billy dropped his flute. "Finally," he said, panting. "Whoever had them under control, they were _powerful_. It took everything I had to freeze them."

Harry stepped back from where the barricade had now caught fire. "I don't think that got all of them," he said. "So maybe someone should find us a way to the other side."

Billy shone his flashlight down the chasm. "I don't see a bottom. That doesn't bode well."

"The kids can probably use these as a balance-beam," Louis said, from where he was studying the crossbeams. "But for us, they're too narrow."

"They have those strange metal eye hooks along the inside, though," one of the guys pointed out. They all gathered and studied the strange contraption. There were indeed metal eye hooks set into the beams, facing each other, at about 30 centimeter intervals. How unusual.

"Those can't support a deck," Silena said. "So it doesn't look like this used to be a bridge or something."

"It's a loom," Annabeth suddenly said.

"A loom?" Louis asked, studying the strange contraption.

Harry grinned. "We have to _weave_ a bridge!" he shouted, practically throwing his backpack off, and holding it out. "Good thing I brought all that string. We need to weave a bridge, not a ladder, but same thing, right?"

"You have the devil's own luck," Billy declared, staring at the boy. "How did you know to bring the string?"

"Son of the Goddess of Fortune," he reminded the satyr. "Mom says it's my 'probability senses'. If I want or need to succeed at something, I can 'feel' the correct way to go, despite the odds. I don't know where we're going, but my instincts urge me to do the correct things to get there."

"Like how you got onto Olympus," Annabeth said, as if things suddenly made sense.

Harry nodded. "It has downsides, though. I balance my own fortune, so for all good things I get, bad things must happen."

"Like getting attacked by ghosts or chased by spiders," Billy said, throwing a look at the passage they had come from. There were still some fires burning, but they were slowly petering out. "If we're going to do this, we need to do it now. I don't know how much longer we have."

"Right," Annabeth said, grinning, and taking Harry's backpack full of string. "Don't mind if I do."

She hesitated for a moment, as if debating internally what exactly would be the right plan to follow, and whether this plan would work at all. Then, she grabbed the string from the backpack and got to work. Her hands moving fast and with determination, she started weaving a cat's cradle pattern from eye hook to eye hook, doubling, then tripling, then quadrupling the line to make sure that it would hold even the heaviest members of their party.

Her eyes shone with purpose, and it seemed that she was no longer thinking, just doing, her entire body filled with confidence, looping string, tying off lines, slowly extending her weave across the chasm.

"Right," Louis said, seeing the little blonde moving forward. "Who's next?"

"I'll go last," Harry said, throwing an expert eye at the spluttering barricade. "That fire isn't going to last much longer, and I'm the one who has no problems with spiders so I'll go last and do my best to move them back."

Louis and Billy seemed to not like this plan, not at all. Harry innocently asked who would go last in his place, considering the spiders were about to come through again.

Sighing, both Billy and Louis agreed. Silena would follow Annabeth, then the two guys, then Louis, then Billy, and finally, Harry would go last. The boy didn't mind, spiders never bothered him, not since there were so many of them in his cupboard.

There were times that his surreal childhood had prepared him well. He'd never thank his aunt and uncle, but he'd make good use of whatever skills it had given him. He couldn't imagine how scared Annabeth must be right now, stricken with severe arachnophobia.

There were a lot of spiders, after all.

Harry looked at the weave, and Annabeth crowed as she got to the other side, Silena already halfway there and the first of the guys just setting out. The fire of the barricade spluttered, and Harry fed it some more, using his Hestia-given skills. The fire leaped up, preventing spiders from crawling in over the walls.

"Guys, hurry up," Harry announced. "I don't know how much longer I can keep the fire up. The fuel's almost gone, and even I need fuel to keep a fire going."

The guy on the bridge cursed and tried to increase his pace, the second guy setting out quicker than normal. Already, Louis and Billy were crowding the near side of the woven bridge.

Harry pushed the remaining wood together into piles and created three smaller fires instead of one large one in an attempt to lengthen its burn time.

"Harry!"

Harry looked, and saw that Billy had started his crossing. Quickly, he followed the satyr, and entered the improvised rope bridge, grabbing his backpack along the way.

The fires had already died down and spiders rushed in across the walls and ceiling of the passage. The vanguard reached the bridge when Harry was only halfway across, and he noticed them approaching.

When he felt the tell-tale tickling of eight little spidery legs touching his skin, he shook the little arachnid off. He looked over his shoulder, and realized it was the just the first of many, and that he _shouldn't stop and try to block the bridge_ as had been his initial plan.

He rushed forward instead, and threw himself off the bridge and onto solid ground. Immediately, he turned around and started blocking spiders from crossing. Billy's pan-flute came to the rescue again, and the spiders froze. Immediately, the satyr looked like he was struggling.

"Harry!" Annabeth shouted, from somewhere behind Louis. "Burn it!"

"But they're just spiders!" Harry protested. "I already feel bad enough about burning them before!"

"Just burn them!" Louis shouted.

Harry sighed, and reached for the weave with his Hestia-given skills. The string ignited, immediately catching the crossbeams as if they had been drenched in petroleum.

The fire whooshed across, and for a moment the weave looked like fiery owls. Harry looked sad. More dead spiders.

Billy's flashlight pointed to the other side, now the far side, of the chasm. The sea of black spiders reached the edge of the chasm, and didn't seem to realize that it could climb walls and just come across the ceiling. Instead, the torrent of spiders just sat at the edge, before dispersing and retreating down their original access corridor.

"Well that sucked," Louis complained.

"They were just spiders," Harry said, somewhat testily. "They looked creepy, but they weren't going to hurt anybody."

"They were going to hurt _me_," Annabeth said, snappishly. "And I hope you'd rather burn some spiders rather than see them hurt me."

Harry nodded. "Of course I would," he answered. "But for all we knew, they weren't going to."

"I _do_ know," Annabeth said with conviction. "Spiders _hate_ children of Athena."

Harry wasn't sure, but he kept quiet to keep the peace.

They walked through the tunnel without issues, keeping together. They didn't have far to go, as the tunnel suddenly widened after a dozen meters or so, turning into a cathedral-like chamber.

They were all gaping; the magnificent room was as majestic as any on Mount Olympus. Bronze braziers burned with magical fire along its circumference. In between the braziers hung the most gorgeous tapestries any of them had ever seen.

The stone floor was webbed with fissures, like a cracked sheet of ice, while at the same time the ceiling was so high up that even Billy's flashlight failed to reveal it.

Column-like strands of silk hung from the darkened ceiling like pillars of white marble, seemingly anchoring the walls and the floors like cables of a suspension bride.

And yet, what drew their attention the most was the huge statue standing in the middle of this shrine, for that was the only thing this room _could_ be. Twelve meters tall it was, with luminous ivory skin and dress of gold, yet covered in webs.

It was a giant statue of Athena, one hand holding up a smaller statue of Nike, Goddess of Victory. At that height, Nike's statue looked small, yet it was likely as tall as a fully grown adult.

"The _Athena Parthenos,_" Annabeth whispered. "It's been missing for 2000 years, ever since the Romans took over Athens."

They all stopped, processed that, and looked at Harry.

The boy shrugged with a smile. "Looks like we know why we're here." He grinned, and studied the statue some more. It had a kindly look to it, a look he hadn't ever seen on Miss Athena's face. And yet, it looked very much like her, as if the artist had been granted access to the goddess and had studied her in great detail.

"It looks very closely like her," Harry said. "Whoever made it must've seen Miss Athena at some point."

Annabeth just nodded, still gaping at the giant statue, as if she couldn't believe she was actually seeing it.

Harry smiled at the sight of seeing his friend this flabbergasted, and looked at the rest of the room instead. The tapestries that hung between the braziers were achingly beautiful. One showed a pastoral scene that looked like it could be a window, it was that three dimensional. Another tapestry showed a scene from the Giant Wars of ancient Greece, and depicted the gods fighting giants. A third held a landscape that could only be the Underworld. Harry wondered if Mister Hades would've liked to have that one.

Next was a skyline of modern Rome, a sight they had just seen themselves.

"These are incredible," Harry said, turning back to study the pastoral scene some more.

"Thank you," a voice spoke from the darkness of the concealed ceiling above. The voice sounded like an angry buzz in multiple tones, undeniably female, yet also undeniably _not human_.

Something moved in the webs that clung above the Parthenos, something black and large.

"I was not expecting you," the voice then said, and Harry had the impression that it was no longer talking to him. A scent followed it, sickly sweet, like the smell in the corridors. "I set up my tests so only the cleverest child of Athena could ever reach this place alive. I was not expecting one to actually be clever enough to overcome her own hubris and _bring backup_. Indeed, you must be her cleverest child of all, a child knowing the value of teamwork. Unfortunately for you, this will make your death – all of your deaths – so much more painful to my old enemy."

"You're Arachne," Annabeth whispered with a voice filled with dread. Harry saw her clinging to Louis, as if wanting to hide behind the taller demigod. "The weaver who was turned into a spider."

The figure dropped from the webs above like only a spider could, a single thick thread of silk supporting her weight as she lowered herself to the ground, behind a curtain of cobwebs. "Cursed by your mother!" she said, furiously. "Scorned by all and turned into a hideous monster for being the better weaver!"

"But you lost," Annabeth protested, as if the urge to set the record straight overrode her urge to hide behind Louis and remain quiet.

"Lies!" Arachne snarled. "Lies, told by your mother! Look at my work! See for yourself!"

"That's true," Harry said, interjecting into the conversation. "What happened to you was a travesty, Miss Arachne," he added, facing the shadowy spider-creature as if she were a regular human.

The shadow of Arachne seemed to stare at him. "Thank you," she admitted.

"But Harry!" Annabeth shouted, angrily. "My mom won!"

Harry looked sad and reluctant, as if he didn't want to be the one to answer. Finally, he drew a breath. "Hestia told me the full story, Annabeth," he said, gently. "Miss Arachne had acquired tremendous skill in weaving, a fact nobody can deny. She ventured to challenge Miss Athena. Miss Athena wove a tapestry depicting the gods in their majesty, while Miss Arachne wove one showing their… ah… adult pastimes."

Annabeth and Silena blushed, while the older demigods just chuckled. "Hestia said that Miss Athena became enraged, either at the fact that Miss Arachne won the contest, or because of the subject matter. Or both. In either case, Miss Athena became enraged, and tore the tapestry to shreds."

Annabeth nodded. "And then Mom cursed her."

Harry shook his head. "No. Humiliated, Miss Arachne hung herself in despair and humiliation. Miss Athena, out of guilt and pity, loosened the rope, and transformed it into a cobweb, and turned Miss Arachne into a spider so she could keep weaving."

Annabeth looked mutinous. Harry turned to Arachne's shadow, which clearly showed confusion at the demigod defending her. "Hestia said that Miss Athena would never admit to a mistake, or say she was sorry," he told the spider-like woman. "In any case, she tried to undo what she did, but didn't take the result into account, I reckon."

Arachne growled. "I'm a monster, it's a curse. Why she did it doesn't matter."

"It's rather over the top," he said with a nod. "I mean, the only thing you did was challenge a god. Artie told me it's not a good idea to ever challenge gods, and I think she's right. I mean, even if you _do_ win, they'll cheat and just claim otherwise."

"Harry!" Annabeth pouted.

"Look at the tapestries," Harry said.

The daughter of Athena studied them, and admitted to herself that maybe, just_ maybe_, Harry's version of the events was the right one. She didn't want to admit to that, however, as that would be declaring her mother at fault.

Then she blinked, and realized… that was the problem exactly. Not wanting to admit defeat, not wanting to admit fault. Hubris. Athena's major problem.

"It doesn't matter," Arachne snapped, "you're all about to _die._" She jumped from her curtain of webbing, heading straight for Annabeth.

She had the body of a giant black widow, with a red hourglass mark on her lower abdomen and a pair of spinnerets. Each of her eight legs were lined with curved barbs that looked the size of daggers.

Harry immediately emerged Hestia's Lasso, and threw its loop. With Arachne still in the air, the godly weapon captured all eight legs, bound them tightly, and pulled the giant arachnid to the ground. For a moment, she rolled and struggled, before blinking and looking surprised at basically being hogtied.

Harry approached her gently. She might, once, have been a beautiful woman. Now mandibles as black as pitch dotted her cheeks. Her eyes were large and lidless, colored pure black, with two smaller eyes sticking out of her temples.

"I'm really sorry, Miss Arachne, but I can't let you hurt Annabeth," he told her, softly.

"Just kill her," Annabeth said, viciously, glaring at their captured enemy. Said enemy wasted no effort in glaring back, her mandibles making vicious ripping sounds.

"No," Harry decided. "No, she's been caught. She can't hurt us. What's captured by Hestia's Lasso remains captured until I release it."

"But she's a monster!" Annabeth screamed.

"She's a human, turned into a spider by godly power," Harry answered. "She's a _person_, Annabeth. And right now, she's a person who _can't hurt us__."_ He looked at Arachne. "What really happened at that contest?" he asked.

Arachne seemed to sag. "Just as you said, demigod. I created a work showing the gods' romantic dalliances. It was rather unflattering, I suppose I should have known better."

"Harry?" Annabeth asked, confused at the straightforward answer from their enemy. She had expected more resistance.

"What is bound by the Lasso of Truth must answer with the truth," Harry replied. "Miss Arachne just cleared herself. Well, of anything other than having hubris at challenging a god, and being a bit shortsighted regarding her subject matter, anyway."

"Maybe," Annabeth muttered, not happy about it.

"How much would you charge for one of those tapestries?" Harry suddenly asked. "I love that Greek landscape one, and I'd like to buy it."

Everyone, including Arachne, dropped silent and stared at him while he patiently for an answer.

"You want to _buy_ one?" Annabeth screeched.

"Just take one, she can't stop you now anyway," Louis said.

Harry looked disappointedly at the son of Apollo. "An artist deserves to be paid for their work," he replied. "If I stole it, and hung it up, all it would do is remind me I stole it."

"You're just trying to lure me into a false sense of security," Arachne snapped. "I won't fall for your lies, demigod!"

Harry sighed, then reached out and looped the cord of the lasso around his wrist. "I am bound by the same magic now. I can't lie. I want to buy that tapestry."

Arachne stared at him with all four of her eyes. For a moment, Harry found it disconcerting, before asking himself why she only had_ four_ eyes and not_ eight_.

"Prove it," Arachne said. "Prove you can't lie. What's the one thing that scares you most, the one thing you never want to let others know?"

Harry felt the magic of the Lasso compel him. He fought it, pleaded with it, struggled against it, but in the end, said, "That everyone will abandon me and I will be alone again, in the darkness."

Arachne seemed stunned that Harry had, indeed, been forced to answer. The demigods and their satyr companion, meanwhile, realized that it explained so much about Harry.

Silena had him in a hug before he knew what had happened. "I won't ever abandon you, Harry," she promised. Annabeth, despite clearly being in terror due to her arachnophobia, joined her and hugged Harry from the other side.

"Me neither, Harry. But if you ever drag me into a spider's lair again, I will still be extremely upset with you!"

"It won't be us who leaves you, either, Harry," the guys said, practically in stereo. Louis grinned, and winked at the boy, while Billy stood there, not knowing what to say.

"This is all very touching," Arachne said, still trussed-up on the floor. "But can we get back to where one of you actually values my work?"

Harry grinned. "Sorry, Miss Arachne. But yes, I want to buy that tapestry."

"And the Athena Parthenos," Annabeth said. "Obviously, we want to return that."

"Never! I will never return it!" the spider-like woman screamed.

"Never?" Harry asked. "There's nothing you want that would let you give up the statue?"

Arachne stared at him. "Of course there are things I want, but 'never' is a better response," she replied. "And I didn't want to say that! Curse this stupid Lasso for making me tell the truth!"

Annabeth turned her head away so Arachne wouldn't see her struggling against laughter.

"You know, I'm sure that there are a lot of people out there who would pay you a lot of money for your work," Harry said. "You should see how much they spend on paintings!" He pointed to the pastoral tapestry. "And those are way better than paintings! That one looks like it's a window onto reality!"

"It's been a long time since anyone honestly appreciated my work," Arachne replied, actually sounding touched. "Not since that one's mother turned me into a monster."

"We could set up an intermediary," Louis said. "Lots of reclusive artists do that. They do all the PR work and the selling and stuff, and get a percentage of the sell price."

"We should also look into breaking the spell," Harry said. "Spells like this are meant to be broken, I reckon. Like bad laws, those are meant to be broken, too." His thoughts drifted towards Zeus' spell on his mother.

"You… think you can cure me?" Arachne asked, sounding so blatantly hopeful that it tugged on everyone's heartstrings.

"Curses are meant to be broken, or at least, worked around," Harry replied. "We'd just have to find out what the trigger is that Miss Athena used."

He stood up, still holding the Lasso with one hand, while the rope was still wrapped around his other wrist. "But before we go into that," he said, turning to Annabeth. "Can you hold this for a moment?" he asked, holding out the handle of the Lasso. "I will want it back, so be careful."

Annabeth, looking confused, took the handle of the Lasso while Harry unwrapped his wrist. "I'll be back in a few moments." He stepped confidently to the nearest brazier, and waved his hand at it.

The fire spluttered for a moment, just long enough to get him worried, before turning green, and his senses reported that this was a new fire that had just been added to the network and that yes, he could travel back to it if he left.

He left.

"Did he just… abandon us?" Billy asked.

Annabeth stared at the Lasso's handle in her hands, the rest of it tying up her mother's ancient enemy. It would be so easy to grab her dagger…

"Go ahead, girl. I can can see you thinking it," Arachne said. "Kill me." The demigods froze and stared at Annabeth.

Finally, the daughter of Athena sighed. "I gave Harry my word. He'd never trust me again."

"He's not like the others," Arachne ventured, carefully. "Wanting to buy my tapestry instead of killing me and claiming it as a spoil? Defending me? He's an odd one."

Annabeth was silent, not knowing how to reply.

Silena answered instead. "Harry has the Lady Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth and the Home, as his guardian. He wants to be just like her, and I think she would definitely approve of this."

Before Arachne could form a reply, the fire flared green, and Harry stepped out of it. "Thanks, Annabeth," he told the daughter of Athena, before sitting down next to Arachne, close enough that she could probably bite him if she stretched and rolled a bit.

Harry opened a purse that he was carrying, displaying the drachmas inside. "Would this buy the tapestry?" he asked.

"You're obviously serious," the captured spider-woman answered. She looked at the gold. "That's more than I've managed to scrape together in quite a while. If you want it, it's yours."

Harry grinned, closing up the purse, and putting it within easy reach of her. "Thanks! That's awesome!"

"That only leaves the statue," Annabeth reminded him. "We need to bring it back, because I don't think my mother will be happy with all of this."

"Too bad," Arachne snickered.

"Before we go on," Billy said, turning to Harry. "You could do that any time? Just turn a fire green and walk through?"

Harry nodded. So did Annabeth, who had traveled with him before.

The satyr sighed. "So, explain to me – _why haven't you gotten us out of here?_ You could have started a fire with any wood you found, then gotten us out. Why haven't you?"

Harry looked surprised, opened his mouth, and thought for a few very long moments. "I… eh… didn't think of it?" he replied, honestly.

Annabeth giggled. So did Silena. The guys and Louis chuckled, a chuckle that turned into full blown laughter. Billy sighed, and shook his head, before looking up at the darkened ceiling as if entreating the gods as to _why_ he was the one stuck with these people.

"Truthfully, I didn't think of Harry's abilities either," Annabeth admitted. The other demigods nodded in agreement. They'd all been swept up in their adventure, and forgotten Harry could have traveled them out at any time.

"You are the most amusing victims I've ever gotten," Arachne said, sounding amused. "However, that still does not mean I am ready to give up my prize."

"Not even for a promise to find a way to turn you back, and the setup of a middleman to sell your tapestries?" Harry asked.

"You could be tricking me," Arachne answered. "And then I'd have nothing, abandoned here, alone with my children, in the darkness."

Later, Harry wouldn't be able to explain why he did what he did. It wasn't his instincts or his probability senses, it wasn't a stray thought or anything like it.

Instead, her words resonated uncomfortably with his own doubts and fears, and Harry leaned down and gave the spider-woman a hug.

The others screamed when they saw him get close enough for her to do serious damage, despite being restrained by the Lasso.

Instead, Arachne's four eyes grew exceedingly big, her mouth opened in surprise, and she stared in confusion at the demigod who continued to hug her.

A tingle spread through her body, and something _shifted_. Harry, startled, leapt back.

Arachne looked… _smaller…_ somehow. And also…

"Miss Arachne, your eyes," Harry said, pointing.

Arachne blinked. "What about my eyes?" she asked, her voice sounding different. It was still buzzing, but there was a humanity to it that had been missing before.

Harry stared at her temples. "You only have two eyes now."

"And your legs aren't as long," Silena said, inching closer despite obviously not being a fan of huge spider-people.

"Hey, yeah," Louis acknowledged. "And the black widow mark on your abdomen isn't as bright red anymore."

"What..." Arachne asked, as if struggling to understand what everyone was telling her. "I feel somewhat different, too."

Harry grinned. "Maybe it was the hug that did it," he said, smiling, and leaned in to hug her again.

"Wait-" Annabeth protested.

Harry was already hugging their adversary, and a soft golden glow seemed to permeate Arachne's skin. He held on, even when he felt things _shift_. Gasps came from the onlookers, and Harry became aware that they were stepping closer.

It took less than a minute, before he realized he was hugging a human woman, dressed in an ancient greek dress that seemed to fit her rather well; it was also clear that yes, human Arachne was a rather attractive woman after all.

"I'm… cured..." Arachne said, still on her back, two human arms and two human legs tied together by the Lasso of Truth. "How…?"

Harry let go and sat back. "It sounds like Miss Athena spelled you into a spider so you could keep weaving, but that nobody would honor you or like you for it, or something like that."

"That sounds like something my mother would do," Annabeth muttered, clearly still stunned by what just happened. "Maybe to teach you humility or respect for the gods."

Arachne pouted. "I'm not sure that part worked," she answered, still bound by the Lasso and therefore forced to tell the truth. "But one thing's sure, I'm extremely grateful to all of you. And especially you," she added, looking at Harry. "I will not forget." She looked at Annabeth. "Take the statue, please. Present it to your mother, and tell her…" she trailed off, as if thinking her response through with the help of the Lasso. "Tell her that I will keep my children away from hers, and that, while I respect her power and position as a goddess, I wish she had chosen a different way of teaching it to me."

Annabeth looked amused, and opened her mouth to reply, when spiders skittered out of the webs on the walls, on the statue, on the ceiling, and started making their way out of the room. The daughter of Athena watched them go, and didn't feel the utter terror she usually felt.

"Hey, my arachnophobia's gone," she announced.

Arachne looked amused. "Can someone untie me now, please? I won't hurt any of you."

Annabeth tried to get the Lasso to untie, but it seemed to be stubborn and uncooperative. The feeling she got was that, while it didn't mind her holding it, it didn't want to cooperate with her for anything else.

"I… Harry?" she asked, holding the handle of the weapon out. It was never a good idea to upset a weapon that seemed to be able to think for itself.

Harry grinned, took the handle, and with a simple flick had it release Arachne, before coiling back up in the boy's hand. "You are brilliant," he told the mythical weapon, and smiled at being rewarded with a purring sensation, before turning it back into a ring.

Arachne stood up, and wobbled, nearly falling over. "It has been so long since I balanced on two legs," she said, before turning to Harry. "Take my tapestries here. They're not my greatest work, those were destroyed by Athena, but they are all I have at the moment."

Harry looked stunned, and the weaver laughed softly at the look on his face. Leaning down, she picked up the purse of gold, and handed it back to him. "It wouldn't do for me to ask for payment from the one who saved me."

"Ah..." Harry stammered, causing laughter from the others. "Thanks, Miss Arachne."

She grinned at him. "My savior gets to call me just 'Arachne', Harry," she teased him, before looking at Louis. "Is that offer of a middleman still good? And can I know your names, by the way? I heard Harry's name, and a few others, but I don't know who's who."

Louis grinned. "Sure. I'm Louis, son of Apollo, as are my two brothers here, Jack and Jim. Just call them 'guys', it ruins their fun at trying to pretend they're the other guy. The satyr over there is Billy."

Billy grinned and waved, while the guys pouted. Louis went on, "Annabeth is the daughter of Athena who revealed where we needed to go, and Silena is a daughter of Aphrodite. And yes, that offer is definitely still good. I'll pray to my dad, see if he can arrange something."

"Pleasure to meet you all," Arachne said, her disposition a lot better now that she wasn't a raging, foaming-at-the-mouth monster. "I would recommend that you leave, though. The floor and the walls are held together with my weaving. Underneath the floor is a hole straight to Tartarus, and the hate and rage has eaten away at the floor for millennia."

Harry looked down, as did the others, as if only now noticing.

"It isn't _that_ unstable, but I do recommend some haste," Arachne said with a tiny giggle.

"How do we get the tapestries down?" Harry wondered, looking up at where the beautiful weaves had been hung.

Arachne seemed to have kept some of the skills she had as a spider, as she had no issues climbing and navigating the webs. Soon, the tapestries fell to the ground, one by one, making Harry wince.

"Don't worry, they can handle it," Annabeth reassured him. "Just look at the strength of the weave, and it's made from real spider silk."

Harry believed her, after seeing how well she could weave bridge and ladders he would never doubt her word on weaving.

"We should go," Arachne said, descending from what used to be her webs. "The longer I'm human, the more I lose contact with the spiders. They might come back."

The questers looked at her. The former spider-woman blushed faintly. "I think spiders used to creep me out," she confessed, earning a few laughs.

"How do we get that huge statue out of here, though?" Louis wondered. "We can carry the tapestries, but that statue is huge. It would take an army."

Harry moved one of the braziers closer. "I can take it through the fire. If I can touch it, I don't need to physically move it – the fire will move it _for _me."

Billy and Louis stared at him, hard. "On the promise that you'll ask for help if you can't," Louis stated with authority.

"Ehm… any chance for a lift?" Arachne asked, half-raising her hand. "I'm not sure I can leave here anymore. I'm also quite sure that the mortals built a parking lot on top of all this."

Harry grinned, and waved his hand at the fire. It turned green. "We're going to Camp Half-Blood, where the children of the gods are trained," he explained. "I'm not sure if it would be a good idea for you to suddenly appear there. This fire goes to the hearth in Hestia's temple at the base of the original Mount Olympus in Greece." He offered the full purse again. "You may need some money, though."

Arachne shook her head, and hugged the boy instead. "I still have some resources," she said. "Greece is excellent. If you ever need anything, let me know. I'll be forever in your debt."

Harry broke the hug. "You could be mortal now, though."

Arachne laughed. "Even better. A good mortal life and a good mortal death. I'm tired, after 2000 years." She looked each of them in the eye, giving them all a grateful nod, then stepped through the fire. It flared, and turned back to normal.

"Well, that was..." Silena started, but unable to finish.

"Something else?" Annabeth offered.

Louis nodded. "That was something else, alright. Let's get back to camp. We _have_ to tell this to Chiron."

"Can everyone grab a tapestry, and move through first?" Harry asked. "I'll come last with the statue, and I have the feeling that I won't be able to keep the connection open after I get there."

Louis and Billy gave him the _eye_ again. "Ask for help if you can't, Harry," Billy ordered.

Harry nodded. "I will if I can. If I get in trouble halfway, though, I probably won't be able to let go – and who knows where the statue will end up if I do?"

"I hate it when you make sense," Louis muttered. "Fine. Everyone grab a tapestry, and let's head back."

Harry waved open the connection to Camp Half-blood. A groan went through the floor.

"I don't think Arachne was exaggerating," Annabeth declared, heaving one side of a rolled-up tapestry together with Silena heaving the other. Those tapestries were larger and heavier than anyone would expect.

"Nope, me neither," Louis said. "Everybody through. Harry. Seriously, _ask for help_ if you can't!"

"If I can ask for help, I will," Harry said, watching his friends go through the connection one by one.

Finally, it was just him and the statue. "Here we go, Miss Athena," Harry told the statue. It didn't reply, nor did he expect it to, but it seemed to be glowing slightly, shedding cobwebs now that Arachne was no longer there to maintain them.

He stepped between the brazier and the statue, placed one hand on it, then reached for the green flame with his other. The fire flashed, reached for him, met him halfway, and swallowed him and the statue.

Immediately, he knew he'd made a mistake.

Travel wasn't instantaneous as he had expected, and he felt like he were pulling a bowling ball through a straw. His arm _hurt_, and he felt his shoulder dislocate almost immediately. Unfortunately, the statue seemed stuck to his open hand so he couldn't release it even if he wanted to.

Somewhere deep in his mind, things _hurt _in a way he had not yet experienced; a clawing, burning sensation that seemed to draw the very strength from his mind and his muscles.

He screamed, silently, in the green fire. He pulled and pushed and progress felt so agonizingly slow.

_Hestia,_ he thought. _Hestia, I need help… please… help…_

He was spat out, hand still on the giant statue of Athena, from the fire in the hearth at camp Half-Blood, at the feet of the goddess he had just been praying to.

He opened his mouth.

Then tumbled to the ground. Darkness claimed him.

**AN: I figured Harry wouldn't have an issue with spiders, and might even have a few issues killing them. Being an arachnophobe myself, I am in Annabeth's corner when it comes to spiders, so this one was hard to write. **

**I****n Percy Jackson canon, Rick Riordan ****chose the v****ersion ****of Arachne's tale ****w****here she ****lose****s**** and get****s**** cursed because of hubris ****and disrespect****. ****Since m****ine ****is a lighter s****tory****, ****with somewhat nicer gods, ****I chose the quote-unquote 'nice****r****' option of ****A****rachne ****being turned into a spider out of pity, a****nd ****d****id my best ****to reconcile the two. ****It's also ****the reason ****why there's an 'escape' clause...**


	19. Chapter 19

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 19**

**AN: I've received questions regarding the last chapter, about Harry being rather nonchalant when it came to poor Annabeth's fears of spiders. As I explained, I'm an arachnophobe myself. I'm in her shoes, all the time.**

**The worst part isn't the fear of spiders (although, trust me – fear of spiders is pretty bad on its own). The worst part is that normal people sometimes genuinely don't 'get' it. Kinda like Harry's reaction, I've had people ask me 'you can't be scared of **_**that**_**, can you?'. So… yeah. That happens.**

Harry felt a headache stab through his consciousness, drawing him from the arms of Morpheus and thrusting him into the waking world. A groan escaped his lips, then he blinked his eyes open, immediately groaning again and squinting against the sunlight that seemed to sear his retinas.

Slowly, he looked around, finding himself in the infirmary at Camp Half-Blood, trying to recall how he had come to be there.

One by one, the memories filtered back; Arachne, the giant statue, the fire-travel that went wrong, his desperate bid for Hestia to help him.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Hestia said, making him groan once more as he hurriedly looked around to find her seated in a chair next to his head.

"Hi Hestia," he managed, voice breaking through disuse. "H-how long was I out?"

The Goddess of the Home smiled faintly. "About a day," she answered softly, standing up and walking to the foot of his bed, making it easier for him to see her.

For some reason, this action made him nervous. Something told him this wasn't going to be a short conversation.

"I am," she finally said, "both extremely proud and rather annoyed."

Harry blinked, thought for a moment, and was about to reply when Hestia beat him to it.

"You were able to save Arachne," the kind goddess said. "You were able to capture your enemy without hurting her, and then you were able to see beyond her external looks. You were able to give respect and kindness to one who had been cursed not to receive any. And, in the end, you showed her compassion, restoring her humanity. I am extremely proud of those actions."

Harry smiled widely. "Thanks, Hestia!"

The goddess looked at him, yet did not smile. "Tell me, Harry," she finally said, after his smiled turned brittle and he started feeling uncomfortable. "What made you think it was a good idea to drag a giant statue, imbued with divine power, through the fire?"

The boy looked down. "I don't know," he whispered. "I thought it would work."

"You thought it would work," Hestia repeated. "Harry, you nearly killed yourself."

He looked up, sharply, aghast. Before he could voice a response, Hestia pushed on. "If I hadn't given you a boost, you would have drained yourself of energy, killing yourself. You would have been lost to the fire, your soul forever part of it. You would not even have made it to the underworld. Your stunt was not just foolish. It was suicidal."

Harry's head bent down, and he stared at his hands, which toyed uselessly with the covers. "Sorry, Hestia."

"You were lucky that I was able to answer your prayer right when you prayed," the Goddess of the Hearth declared. "Had I been occupied, had I been distracted, had I been doing _anything_ that would have caused me to delay answering, you would not have made it."

Harry's shoulders slumped further. "Sorry, Hestia."

"And even then, I nearly did not make it in time," Hestia pressed on. "I was forced to give you a boost to get you through in one piece. This may have unintended consequences down the line; the boon I gave you had exhausted all of its own energies, and had nearly exhausted your very life's energies as well. I had to supply it with my own. I'll say it again. This may have unintended results in the future."

"Sorry Hestia," Harry whispered again, feeling miserable. The last thing he ever wanted to do was disappoint Hestia, and it sounded like he had done so in a major way.

The goddess sighed, and walked around the bed. She patted his shoulder. "What's done is done," she said. "We'll not waste any more words on this. Just remember this for next time; fire travel is suitable for people, and small objects. Not for giant statues."

He nodded miserably. "I will, Hestia," he said softly. He swallowed, then awkwardly, he asked, "How do I know if something's too big to take through the fire?"

Hestia spared him a look. "A good rule of thumb to remember is, if you can't carry something, you shouldn't move it through the fire."

The young boy nodded softly, then seemed to think of something. "But I can move people I can't carry?"

The Goddess of the Hearth shook her head. "People move under their own power. Inanimate objects need to be carried."

"Oh," Harry answered, feeling remarkably stupid for not realizing that himself. "Okay." His shoulders slumped again, and he stared at his hands. He hadn't felt this miserable in a long time.

Hestia sighed softly, leaned in, and gave him a hug. "There, there, Harry. No real harm was done this time. I was able to get to you in time, and you were able to bring the Athena Parthenos here to Camp Half-Blood. Already, it's powers have put an added protective barrier around the camp, making the demigods safer here than they have ever been."

He looked up at her, softly, hesitatingly. She smiled at him. "And, as I said, you did extremely well with Arachne. I am very proud of you for that."

His smile was tentative, but grew to be more genuine when Hestia kept smiling at him. "I believe that Athena will want to talk with you and your party as well. It _is_ her statue, after all, and it _has_ been missing for nearly two thousand years."

"Okay, Hestia," he whispered softly.

She patted his shoulder affectionately. "You may also want to read your cards. It seems that your chocolate cakes were well-received by the deities you sent them to." Hestia smiled mischievously. "I think you will especially like the card Hera sent you," she confided conspiratorially. "I should let the others know you're awake," she said and turned to leave.

"Thanks, Hestia. For helping me, I mean," Harry said.

She turned back, and patted his shoulder again. "Of course I will help you when I am able," she answered. "Try not to make a habit of it, however. Gods are discouraged from assisting on quests, and this was definitely a quest. Even if it was one you lucked your way into."

"Is that why I'm in the infirmary, and not at home?" Harry asked.

The Goddess of the Hearth nodded. "I could not have asked Apollo to heal you as you were on a quest. On a side note, your friend Louis seemed to enjoy popping your dislocated shoulder back into place."

Harry grinned. "I'm sure he did."

Hestia gave a short laugh. "I will let the others know you're up," she said, and turned once more. This time, he let her go, still feeling bad about having disappointed her. Even if he made her proud, he also nearly killed himself, it seems.

Left by himself, he looked at the nightstand, a nightstand which held various 'thank you' cards from the gods he had sent a cake to for helping his mother.

He took the first one that came to hand. It was a soft blue, and the front had an animated school of fish that darted playfully back and forth. It was relaxing, like looking at an aquarium, and Harry found himself staring at it for longer than would be considered normal.

Grinning, he opened the card up. Inside, in neat, extremely elaborate, hand-written, Ancient Greek, was a nice thank you message from Poseidon. "Harry. Thank you for the lovely cake, Amphitrite and I enjoyed it very much. You're welcome for the help, even if the outcome was regrettable."

It was signed,

Poseidon, God of the Sea, Storms, Earthquakes, Droughts, Floods, and Horses  
King of Atlantis  
The Earthshaker  
The Stormbringer  
Father of Horses

Harry had a small laugh about that, he had the impression Mister Poseidon had signed it that way just to amuse him.

The next card was pink, and he could guess who it came from. It smelled really nice, and while its front wasn't animated, it held a very nice 'thank you' in large, colorful letters. Aphrodite, his grandmother, had written a very nice thank you and you're welcome message, somewhat similar to Mister Poseidon's, and had simply signed it 'your grandmother'.

He swallowed, closed the card, and held it to his chest. Miss Aphrodite acknowledged him as her grandson. It felt… warm. Smiling, he finally put the card back and took the next one.

The next card was off-white, and its front was animated, various mathematical symbols forming equations that, if he squinted slightly, spelled out 'thank you'. He grinned, that was something so typically _Miss Athena._

Her message was short, as he had expected from the logical goddess, and thanked him for the lovely cake, and reiterated that she only said what she did because it was in the right pursuit of justice.

He still smiled, because it was a lovely card and it showed that Miss Athena at least cared enough to write a nice thank-you card.

The next card was decorated with an animated peacock, displaying its gorgeous tail and strutting about. He grinned and watched the animated bird prance about for a bit; it really was exceedingly lovely.

"Harry, you're most welcome. Your lovely cake was delicious, and I would urge you to keep baking as you have genuine talent. I refused to share _my_ cake with my husband, but I did take the time and effort to describe how utterly delicious it was to him, just to ease his pain. He has been pouting ever since."

The card was simply signed _Hera_, and Harry got a good chuckle out of her refusing to share with Mister Zeus.

He looked at the peacock again for a few moments, then placed the card back on his nightstand, before gently taking the next one.

This card was simple, showing one of Artie's neat silver bows (which she still refused to share with him!), fully drawn and with an arrow nocked.

"Harry, this cake was even better than the last one. I've said it before, and I'll say it again – I should help you more often if this is the reward for my assistance. Zoë expressed her delight at the cake as well – you may want to watch out for jealous pouting from my Hunters next time you visit. We couldn't share."

The message was signed 'Artemis, Goddess of the Moon and the Hunt' and 'Zoë Nightshade, Lieutenant of the Hunters'. He grinned; Miss Zoë liked his chocolate cake almost as much as Artie did.

The last card held the symbol of Hermes Express, animated to rotate along its length axis. "Harry, I can see where you spent time with Aunt Hestia – you have genuine talent. I'm always happy to help family, either above or under the table, and getting this marvelous cake out of it was even better."

It was signed 'Hermes, who still doesn't like 'grandfather',' which made Harry laugh softly, before putting the card back. It seemed every one of his recipients had taken the time to offer a thank you card, which made him feel happy, especially after Hestia's disappointment in him.

There wasn't a card from Mister Dionysus, but Harry hadn't really expected the surly god to write him one. He could understand the god's situation and disposition a lot better now; if Zeus ever made him stay away from Hestia…

Harry drew a breath to calm himself. The trip had been so eventful that he hadn't thought about the situation with his mother, but now that he had nothing to do _but_ think, it all came flooding back.

As he struggled to sort out his thoughts and his memories, the door to the infirmary opened, drawing his attention and breaking him out of his dark thoughts.

His entire band of quest-mates trooped in, even Billy was there. He smiled, happy to see them. "Hi everyone!"

"Harry!" Silena beat everyone to him, and grappled him into a hug, sending a shot of discomfort through him, making him wince. "Sorry," she apologized at feeling him tense.

"I guess that was my dislocated shoulder," Harry explained.

Louis grinned, patting Harry on his other shoulder. "It was my extreme pleasure to pop it back in, Harry," the son of Apollo confided with a grin. "After ghosts, collapsing rooms, armies of spiders, a bridge woven from party string, and a _giant spider-woman_, believe me, it was my pleasure."

Harry grinned up at him. "It was fun, wasn't it?"

Annabeth gave him a less forceful hug, while Silena grinned and nodded. "It was awesome!" the daughter of Aphrodite gushed with a small bounce.

Annabeth agreed, nodding intensely. "And we got my mom's statue back! It's been missing for 2000 years!"

"That should make her happy," one of the Guys said, rubbing Harry's already messy bed-hair, making it worse and causing him to pout. "Having the favor of a goddess like Athena is always good, I reckon."

"Miss Athena hasn't said anything yet?" Harry asked, remembering how Hestia had once said that the goddess in question had problems saying 'thank you', the card next to his bed notwithstanding.

"I'm sure Mom is waiting for you to wake up," Annabeth said, loyally sticking up for her mother.

Harry grinned at her while greeting the second Guy. "Honestly, Harry, great party," the second Guy said, patting him on the shoulder. "But next time, try and leave the giant spider-women out of it, will you?"

The young boy laughed at his friend. "With Arachne changed back, I don't know any other giant spider-women, so I'm sure I'll manage."

They all had a good laugh, before falling silent when it became apparent that Billy wasn't laughing. Instead, the satyr was staring at Harry, who uncomfortably started to shuffle in his bed. He didn't like that look one bit.

Calmly, sedately, Billy approached the bed, still staring at the slightly squirming boy. "Harry."

Harry tried his best friendly smile. "Hi Billy."

The satyr leaned in close; so close in fact that their noses practically touched. "Remember what I told you during our trip?"

Harry's smile wavered. "Ehm… you told us a lot of things?"

Billy leaned in closer, their noses now _actually_ touching, making Harry jump back in surprise. "_I. Told. You. So."_

The young boy let out a squirming half-laugh.

Billy straightened up. "Considering what we found down there, that could have killed all of us. Now, I get that you're all demigods. You're all heroes. You're all supposed to be brave. But honestly? That was a _tad_ much. Next time, try to listen to reason, eh? Don't just go storming off, because next time, we might be having a _wake_ rather than a celebration."

Harry's smile was extremely brittle. After Hestia, now Billy. He'd really messed up. "Sorry, Billy."

The satyr sighed, and ruffled Harry's messy hair. "Well, we all survived, so don't worry too much about it. Just keep old Billy's advice in mind for next time, alright?"

Harry nodded silently, looking down at his hands. "Good," the satyr said, grinning. "Then we won't spend any more words on this. Did anyone hear the one with the priest and the rabbi walking into a bar? No? Well, one day, a priest and a rabbi walk into a bar-"

What happened to the priest and the rabbi would probably be lost to the mists of history, as at that precise moment, a bright golden light bloomed in the infirmary. The light fell in on itself, coalescing into an owl – an owl that looked remarkably like the fiery owl symbols that had guided them to the Parthenos.

In its talons, the owl clutched a celestial bronze message tube, decorated with intricate carvings. With a hoot, the owl spread its wings when it started to fall, before banking lazily, floating over to Annabeth, and dropping the message tube in her lap. Before anyone could react, light bloomed again, taking the owl away.

"Well that was different," Louis remarked.

Annabeth spun the message tube around, looking at the carvings on its side. "They're the carvings from the Parthenon!" she squealed excitedly. Seeing some blank looks, she sighed.

"You know, big old building in Athens, blown up a couple of times?" she asked, sarcastically. When she got sheepish nods, she added, "It has carvings of the gods on it," waving the tube about. "_These_ carvings."

A collective 'oh' went through the assorted group, making her grin. Deftly, she pulled the cap off the tube, and removed a parchment scroll.

Her eyes scanned the lines with remarkable speed and precision, while everyone held their breath.

"We've all been invited to my mother's temple on Olympus," the daughter of Athena finally whispered. "As thanks for returning the _Athena Parthenos_, we are to be honored and commended."

"Olympus?" Silena cried, the first to speak. "We get to go to Olympus?"

Annabeth nodded. "Mom will send a chariot for us."

"When?" Silena asked. "Because I have to do my hair, and find clothes, and do my nails, and – "

"After dinner," Annabeth interrupted, not really wanting a full list of what the daughter of Aphrodite had to do to get ready.

"Silena's right about one thing, though," Louis said. "We do need to make sure we're all at our best. This is _Olympus_ after all!"

Harry didn't get what everyone was getting so worked up about. He moved to sit upright, then pushed his legs out of the bed. He felt stiff and sore from staying in bed for so long and from the excitement of the day before.

"I could use a shower," he muttered. When you could smell yourself, it was definitely time for a shower.

Silena grabbed his hand and almost _pulled_ him to his feet with sheer strength. He barely had a chance to move himself before the excited girl had him on his feet. "I'm sure Mom will let you use her cabin to clean up, Harry," the daughter of Aphrodite practically squealed. "We need to get ready, see you all soon!" she then yanked Harry out of the infirmary.

Harry had a chance to wave and yell a goodbye at the others, who were all laughing at him being woman-handled out of the room and down the camp towards Aphrodite's cabin.

Silena pulled him down the rows of cabins, and before he knew it, she had entered the _extremely_ pink cabin of Aphrodite. For a moment, he felt like she was trying to pull him through a solid wall, and it surprised him as well as her.

Silena started to turn to look at the door where Harry was stuck, but then the invisible wall released and Harry practically tumbled inside, still being pulled by Silena's hand. When he crashed into her, they both exploded into laughter.

Harry had a moment to take a look around the cabin. The inside walls were as pink as the outside walls were, with white trim around the windows and doors. The curtains and the beds were colored a rather attractive shade of pastels, mostly blues and greens.

The main cabin seemed to be divided into two sections, separated by a curtain. On each side was a row of twin beds, made with pale blue sheets. Between each bed stood a dresser, with drawers, a mirror and various beauty products.

At the foot of each bed stood a large chest, with the name of the camper emblazoned on it. From what Harry could see, the division of the main cabin was along gender lines, boys on one side, girls on the other.

He had all of ten seconds to take all of this in, however, before they were swamped by very pretty girls and equally pretty boys.

Silena explained the situation in under three sentences, and before Harry realized what had happened, she had released his hand. He caught a glimpse of her darting to her vanity, before one of the older Aphrodite girls grabbed him into a hug. He managed to hug her back before another girl yanked him around for her own hug.

"He's precious!" the girl currently hugging him squee-ed, before trying to kiss him. He managed to dodge _that_, and declared kissing as disgusting, causing a ripple of laughter to pass through Aphrodite's children.

"Oh, he's so _cute_!" a third girl squee-ed, hugging him in turn. It seemed all of his grandmother's kids, both boys and girls, were going to take turns giving him a hug. He smiled widely, he hadn't felt so accepted in a _long_ time.

By the time they were all done, he was smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

The oldest girl, the one who had hugged him first, pushed him towards a door. "Go grab your shower, Harry. We'll get you some clothes."

Harry was about to say that he had his own clothes and didn't want to be a bother, but it seemed that the girl had decided on a course of action and had already shoved him through the door.

He shrugged it off, his aunts and uncles seemed to like him and the hugs were great. He could see why Aphrodite was Goddess of Love if this was what her children had inherited.

He found a masculine brown bottle of shower gel on a stand next to the shower. It seemed everyone had their own favorites, as the brown bottle was hidden among a plethora of others. After grabbing the bottle, he took his shower; making sure to take his time and getting himself completely clean.

After the excitement on their quest, and the long nap, he needed that long and hot shower. When he finally finished, he felt like new.

With his shower finished, he didn't really have a choice other than to get back into the blue-white striped pajamas he had woken up in, before leaving the bathroom.

Silena pounced the moment he stepped out, and dragged him down the cabin before he found himself unceremoniously placed in front of one of the boys' beds.

"You should have just wrapped yourself in a towel," Silena said. "Now we'll have to strip you again," she added with a grin.

The boy whose bed it was shooed her off. "Go! Go play with your dolls and your makeup!"

Silena poked out her tongue at him, before they both broke into laughter. Harry grinned, happy to see the family dynamic. "Just don't break him," Silena told her brother, who huffed and pulled himself fully upright.

"I am an _artist_, and I have _creating_ to do. Now shoo."

"I'm going, I'm going," Silena said playfully, giving Harry a grin, and flouncing off.

"Now," the boy said, turning to Harry. "We have some work to do, _mon ami_."

He was really pretty, like all of Aphrodite's children were, and Harry found that he rather liked him, as if the boy was putting a lot of effort into being as over-the-top as he could be.

"Call me Norm," the boy said, suddenly switching to proper American English rather than French-accented English. He winked at his young charge. "First, let's see what kind of style would suit you best, eh?"

Norm pulled open a _gigantic_ wardrobe and started half-lifting certain articles of clothing out if before putting them back with a 'no, no, no' statement. Harry watched him, bemusedly, not knowing what to think of the strange spectacle but finding it amusing nonetheless.

"Yes, let's go with this," Norm said, pulling out a combination of dress pants, colored button-up shirt, and a jacket. He held them up against Harry, then hummed. "Wrong color. Green, to match your eyes, I think." He put the shirt and jacket back, and retrieved an identical set, but this one with a dark green shirt and a lighter green jacket that complimented it really well.

"There, try those," the son of Aphrodite entreated. "There's a changing room over there; underwear is in the dresser."

Harry nodded thankfully, and accepted the stack of clothes. At the same time, he heard playful complaints from the other occupants of the cabin.

"Ignore those ingrates, Harry. They want to see you naked, they have to buy you dinner first," Norm said with a laugh, before giving the boy a gentle shove. "Now chop-chop. Let's see you dressed."

Harry fled into the changing room, which did indeed contain a dresser. He opened the first drawer and found frilly girl's things, which made him blush. While he had an academic knowledge of the differences between male and female – thanks to Athena's biology books – seeing girls' underwear made that knowledge a whole lot more than merely _academic_.

The second drawer had boys' underwear, and Harry sighed with relief; grabbing a set of boxers that would fit, he got out of the striped pajamas and got into the clothes Norm had selected for him.

The clothes fit as if they had been tailored specifically for him, and Harry grinned at himself in the mirror. If he could pull a comb through his hair, and get some socks and shoes, he'd be all set.

He still didn't get the point of dressing up to see Miss Athena, he saw her a couple of times a week dressed in just a t-shirt and jeans, after all, but if this was what would make Silena happy, he'd dress up. It was a small thing, and truth be told, he rather liked these clothes.

Stepping out of the dressing room, Harry blushed when he was greeted by catcalls and whistles.

"Stop teasing him," Norm admonished his siblings, before turning to Harry, and looking him over while making the circle motion with one finger. Harry sighed, and slowly turned in place.

"Good fit, if I do say so myself," Norm determined. "Here's some socks and dress shoes."

"Thanks, Norm, I really appreciate it," Harry said, sitting down on the bed to pull on the socks and shoes.

Norm grinned, and ruffled Harry's hair. For a moment, the younger boy wondered why everyone went after his hair like that, but then dismissed it. "You're welcome, Harry. Mom's letting you in, so come back when you need anything, alright?"

Harry grinned at the older boy. "Thanks, Norm. I will."

He had just managed to tie up his second shoe, when Silena was suddenly _right there_. "Done?" she asked, looking him over.

"Ehm… yeah?" Harry asked, looking up at her. She made a motion, and he obediently stood up and twirled for her.

"Not bad. Not bad at all," Silena told Norm, who pretended to be wounded by the lackadaisical praise. She grinned at him, and he laughed back at her, right before Silena grabbed Harry's hand and yanked him.

He had time for a startled yelp before being dumped in front of a vanity. When he got back to his senses, Silena was sitting at a vanity right next to the one he was sitting at, doing something with the mysterious articles girls called _make-up_. He shuddered when she went after her eyes with a pencil.

He hoped nobody was going to attack _his_ eyes with a pencil like that!

A shadow fell over him, and he looked up to see the oldest daughter of Aphrodite, the one who had hugged him first. "Don't worry, Harry. We just need to tame that cobweb you call hair."

Harry nodded. "Okay," he answered, somewhat tremulously. He knew how hard it was to tame his hair.

The girl laughed, gave him another hug, then straightened up and grab a jar-of-something.

Opening it up, she scooped some kind of gel out of the jar and started attacking his hair with it. Even with the gel, it seemed, his hair had a mind of its own, and the girl frowned at it with a thoughtful look.

"That's one stubborn nest of hair," she admitted. "If we had more time, I'm sure I could straighten it out. But since we don't have the time, let's go with plan B."

Harry had an unsettling flashback to Aunt Petunia coming after him to shave his hair off. He shuddered. "Plan B?" he asked, trying to hide his sudden anxiety.

The girl nodded decisively. "We're going to make your hair look like it's _supposed_ to be a mess, rather than the _accidental_ mess that it is now." She grabbed some more something from the jar-of-something and attacked his hair anew.

Within minutes, his hair looked spiked up as if it were a style choice. Harry had to admit, he rather liked it.

"That looks awesome," he told his hair-dresser.

She laughed, and gave him a small hug. "You're welcome, Harry." when she straightened up, she asked him, "Want to try some color? Green highlights could be fun. Or red ones, to contrast with your eyes."

"No!" Silena screamed. "No avant-garde experiments on my best friend! We're about to go to Olympus, not to some rave party."

The girl pouted at Silena. "But he'd look so handsome!"

"No!" Silena repeated. "No hair coloring!"

The girl pouted deeper. "In that case, I think you're done, Harry," she told him. "Unless you're willing to override the princess and go for colors…?"

Harry blinked, and shied away from the venomous look Silena was shooting over. "Eh… I think… it's best to follow Silena's suggestion? She knows a lot more about this stuff than I do," he managed to say.

His hairdresser grinned. "You're half-trained already," she told him. "You'll do." After a pat on his shoulder, she flounced off. He let out a relived breath, and mouthed _thank you_ at Silena, who appeared entirely mollified at his reply.

He honestly didn't know what to think about hair coloring at this point. Silena looked good with whatever hair color she decided on wearing, but he didn't think he would be the same.

By the time he left the cabin, dinner was about to be served. Feeling rather self-conscious about leaving right away, Harry stayed around to eat at the camp.

He was incredibly surprised to see the other campers offer some of their food up to their divine parents, throwing it ritualistically into the fire. He didn't know what to do, to be honest – it wasn't something he'd ever done before, nor was it something Hestia had told him to do.

So, winging it, he offered some of his food to Hestia, for helping him, and to Mister Helios, for letting him stay at his temple. He ate with his aunts and uncles of the Aphrodite cabin, and while most of the conversations were about things he had no interest in – fashion, relationships, Hollywood stars, and so forth, there was plenty of laughter as well.

The food itself was rather nice, with lots of lean-cut barbecue. He rather enjoyed eating with others, all told.

After dinner, the six questers gathered together at the Athena Parthenos, still where it had arrived; next to Hestia's Hearth, to wait for the chariot Athena was going to send. They had all dressed up in fancy clothes; even Billy had put on a Victorian style suit with a long tailcoat that looked quite fetching on him.

As they waited, Chiron trotted up.

"With all the excitement, I haven't had a chance to talk to you yet," Chiron said as he studied Harry. "Are you alright, lad?"

The young boy nodded. "I am, Mister Chiron, thanks for asking."

"Just Chiron will do," the Trainer of Heroes reminded Harry once again. "I'm glad to hear it. I also heard you were the one who dragged everyone into trouble."

Harry's smile turned rather brittle. Before he could answer, Annabeth interjected. "He didn't drag us, Chiron. He said he had a feeling about going somewhere, and we all agreed to go. And he was right! We got my mother's statue back!"

Chiron studied her for a few moments, and Harry had the distinct impression that he disagreed with her. "I am talking about the fact that he didn't listen when cooler heads counseled wisdom and restraint."

"That's not Harry's fault either," Silena piped in. "Nobody else listened to Billy, either. By the time things got dangerous, the way back was closed so we had no choice but to keep going."

Chiron nodded calmly. "And yet, why did you not travel back using Harry's unique fire-traveling ability?"

"Billy asked the same thing, after Arachne changed back," Harry said. "None of us thought of it, to be honest. And the quest was exciting. And fun."

Chiron pinched the bridge of his nose. "From the descriptions, that quest has killed a lot of demigods over the years."

"Except for the spiders, those were _really terrifying_, none of it seemed that dangerous," Annabeth said. "The ghosts were more fun than scary, and weaving that bridge was a lot of fun, too."

Silena nodded. "And Arachne looked scary at first, but Harry tied her up in a second, and she wasn't that scary with her legs tied together."

A pinprick of light appeared in the sky, rapidly growing larger, before revealing a large chariot, drawn by four horses. It landed quickly, and the driver dismounted.

She was rather tall, had brown hair, and wore a glittering sleeveless dress, her hair pulled up in braids, which were circled by a golden laurel wreath.

The demigods stared at the driver, before their eyes drew to the Athena Parthenos, before going back to the driver.

"Hello, kiddos!" the driver greeting them cheerfully, a wide, winning smile on her face. "I'm Nike, as you figured out, no doubt." She giggled slightly, and turned to look at the Parthenos as well. "It's a pretty decent image of me, I must admit," she said, motioning to the small statue standing on Athena's outstretched hand.

"Hello, Miss Nike," Harry answered; he was used to seeing gods all the time and had no trouble talking to them at all. While his friends gathered their composure, he stepped up to the divine charioteer. "It really is a good likeness," he agreed with her.

Nike grinned at him, before turning to the others. "In any case, thanks for getting it back, Kiddos. It's been lost for too long." She looked at Chiron. "I'll have them back shortly, Chiron."

"Of course, Lady Nike," the Trainer of Heroes answered deferentially.

"Everyone on board!" Nike said, waving to the large chariot. "Just grab a spot and hold on. I'll have you on Olympus in a jiffy."

"Thanks for the save," Harry whispered softly as he climbed on board.

"Chiron giving you a hard time?" the goddess asked with a teasing grin as she took the reins.

"No more than anybody else," Harry muttered softly. "I don't get it. I didn't make anyone do anything, and we all had loads of fun and came out alive."

Nike laughed again as the chariot rose into the air. "That's the winning spirit!" she said, patting his back – somehow – while still holding onto the reins. "Don't worry, Harry. They're probably just worried."

"I wish they could just say that rather than making me feel like I did something wrong," Harry pouted.

"You could have turned back when I asked you to," Billy interjected, before realizing that he was interrupting a conversation with a goddess. He paled. "My apologies, Lady Nike."

The Goddess of Victory wove the apology off. "No worries, Kiddo." She shot him a grin. "Demigods are heroes by nature. Wave danger in their faces and they'll be chomping at the bit to go. You probably just egged them on by asking to turn back."

"That… would explain a lot," the satyr muttered, throwing a gimlet eye at the others. Silena and Annabeth pasted the most angelical innocent looks they could muster on their faces, the Guys chuckled, and Louis shook his head.

"I'm just glad that I'll be staying on Olympus," Harry said. "Mister Chiron was making me feel bad about things I didn't do." He sighed.

"You convinced us to go," Billy reminded him.

"You could have just said no," Harry replied. "I'm nine. If I convinced you, it's because you wanted to be convinced."

Nike laughed loudly. "I'd have to give the point to the kid for that one," she told Billy.

The chariot was flying over New York now, and was steadily gaining altitude without any discomfort for its passengers. Harry had done trips like these plenty of times before, mostly with Artie before Hestia taught him how to travel through fire, and was used to it.

Apparently, it rated commentary by Annabeth, who started asking questions about air pressure and temperature changes.

While Nike went into an explanation of divine protection, Harry looked at Billy, before stepping closer to him. "Hey, Billy."

"Hey Harry," the satyr answered.

"Are you really that mad at me?" he asked softly. "I mean, I don't think I fought all that hard, and the others seemed interested in going on."

The satyr sighed. "No, not really," he answered after a few moments. "More… annoyed, I guess. Please be more careful in the future, things may not work out as well as they did this time."

Harry nodded obediently.

They landed in front of Athena's temple, and Harry just jumped down from the chariot, used to doing so. "Thanks for the lift, Miss Nike."

The others dismounted a bit more tenderly, not at all used to riding a chariot, but they all thanked the goddess of Victory.

"You're welcome, Kiddos. It's the least I could do for the ones who recovered the Parthenos." She waved at them as the chariot started to rattle off, staying on the ground this time. "Remember, Victory is Life!"

"She's kidding, right?" Louis asked.

Harry grinned. "She's fun. I like her."

"Everyone? She's kidding, right?" Louis repeated.

"I think Lady Nike means that 'losing' usually results in 'death'," Annabeth said, sounding a bit creeped out.

They all fell silent, thinking that one through.

"Maybe we should go in," Harry finally suggested. "Miss Athena doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Annabeth nodded hesitatingly, a nod slowly taken up by the others.

Seeing his friends still hesitant, Harry grinned at them. "Come on, Miss Nike was probably just having a laugh. Let's go see Miss Athena; she's probably really grateful to us for returning the Parthenos."

They pulled themselves together, and Harry grinned as shoulders straightened. He turned to the temple, walked up its steps, and as he'd done dozens of times, pushed open the doors.

"Harry, should we just barge in like that?" Annabeth asked, leaning in closer. They were all tightly packed around him, he noticed.

"Oh," Harry muttered, used to just going in for his lessons. "We've been invited, so it's fine," he explained. Silently, he added, _I hope_.

They trooped in, spreading out only slightly when they crossed the threshold. In a flare of light, Athena appeared before them.

"Questers," she said. "Heroes."

Immediately, they all stopped walking. "Hi Miss Athena," Harry greeted politely. The others swallowed, and respectfully made their greetings.

Athena nodded at them in her usual manner. "You have returned what has been lost for thousands of years," she said, making them smile and stick out their chests. "However," she resumed, making them falter. "This quest was supposed to be one undertaken by my children."

Harry shifted closer to Annabeth and dropped his arm around her shoulders. "We had one of those, Miss Athena!" he said, grinning, making the others stare at him with a 'shut up shut up shut UP!' look.

Athena looked at Annabeth, and smiled faintly. "Yes. Yes, you did," she acknowledged. "It would have been very likely that, in a few years, Annabeth would have been given The Coin and asked to quest for the statue. Only the very best of my children are ever given that quest."

"You mean, those bones we found, they were all my brothers and sisters?" Annabeth asked, drawing pale. Harry's arm became a comfort when he pulled her closer. The quest suddenly took on a whole other outlook, now that those weren't just random bones.

"Correct," Athena replied. Her gaze shifted from Annabeth back to the others, sliding over them one by one. Each one shivered when the goddess' pale grey eyes seemed to peer directly into their souls. "However, you succeeded where they all failed. Even if the quest was not yours to complete, and you merely stumbled across it, the fact remains that you _did_ complete it."

Athena's eyes slid back across them, one by one, but now in the opposite direction. They all still flinched, until her gaze settled back on Annabeth and Harry, the latter of which was still comforting the former.

"And I believe I know _how_ you stumbled across a hidden quest for something that was lost so long ago," she stated, gaze now firmly focused on Harry. "Tell me, Harry. How did this happen?"

Harry smiled. "I just had this feeling about something, Miss Athena," he replied. He was used to the goddess' stern manner now. "So I asked the others if they wanted to take a look. Billy said it might be dangerous, but he allowed himself to be convinced very easily. When we found the building, the door reacted to Annabeth, and a burnt symbol of an owl appeared."

Athena nodded thoughtfully. "The quest wasn't completely active. Normally, it is tied to a coin that will guide the quester through the challenges. With the quest in an inactive state, any child of mine could have triggered it."

"I… eh… thought it was a sign to a secret book club or something," Harry admitted sheepishly. "That's why we went in."

Athena looked amused again.

Annabeth piped in, "I thought it was something you would do, Mom," she told her mother. "I could see you creating a secret library, and hide it behind tests of merit. I just thought that Harry cheated his way to it."

Athena's amusement grew visibly, but before she could say anything, Harry playfully pouted at his friend. "It's not cheating."

"So we went in," Annabeth recounted, ignoring Harry's playful pouting. "I was reasonably sure it wasn't a library – or a book club – when I had to weave a ladder to drop down into an old aqueduct. It's too humid for books."

Athena nodded. "Good. You can still think. I can see the original assumption, and how you _stumbled_ upon the quest." She straightened up, and looked them all over again. "Despite everything, it _was_ a quest for my children, only."

Annabeth shivered again at the thought of the spiders, and the thought of Arachne, and facing them _alone_. She burrowed deeper into Harry's shoulder. "Thanks, Harry," she whispered.

Apparently, not quietly enough, as Athena's laser-gaze shifted to her. "You would have done fine in a few years," the goddess admonished.

"However," she went, looking at all of them again. "As stated before, you completed it successfully, and in the end, you even managed to return an enemy to proper respect for the gods. No longer will my children be haunted by arachnids. That, too, deserves praise."

They all managed a smile at that.

"You will always have my favor," she told the six. "And my boon. Your memories and minds will sharpen; you will retain more easily the things you read or experience, and you will make better use of the knowledge."

"Thanks, Miss Athena!" Harry chirped. "That's awesome!" For a moment, he expected special effects; but then he remembered how Mister Hephaestus had given him psychometry. Gods didn't need special effects to bestow boons.

The Goddess of Wisdom graced him with a small smile. "I know," she answered calmly. The others, pulled from their surprise at the sudden gift, smiled widely and thanked the goddess in turn.

"Before you go, however, one more thing," Athena said as the six questers made up their mind to bid their leave. She focused on Harry. "Without one of you, this would not have happened. Without that same person, it is doubtful that my ancient enemy would have turned as she did. Without that person, my children would still be plagued by arachnids."

Harry shuffled uncomfortably, not knowing where this was going.

"And above all else, this person safeguarded my daughter. He stood between her and others willing to do her harm, allowing her the time to collapse a room, or weave a bridge. He captured my old enemy before she could do harm, then turned her," Athena went on.

Harry swallowed. He didn't know whether this was going to be a_ good_ lecture or a_ bad_ lecture – he'd been on the receiving end of both in the last few hours.

"As such, I think that person deserves an additional reward," Athena finished. Harry tried to hide his sigh of relief – it was a_ good_ lecture. Good, he liked those a lot better.

Holding out her hands, Athena summoned an item. Light bloomed, slowly turning into a rounded shield, elaborately decorated with Ancient Greek designs on its front.

The goddess passed it to Harry. "As a reward for a job well done, I pass to you this shield. It is made from Celestial Bronze, is virtually unbreakable, and will protect you against all attacks, both mortal and celestial."

Harry smiled widely when he accepted it. "Whoa, this is awesome. Thanks, Miss Athena!" He slipped it onto his left arm, one strap in his hand, the other around his lower arm. He noticed it left enough room to emerge his bracers still, which was awesome as well!

"You're welcome," Athena said. "It will retract into a ring if you-"

The shield collapsed into a ring on Harry's left middle finger, in a similar way that Hestia's Lasso was a ring on Harry's right middle finger. "Awesome," the boy repeated.

"It is," Athena agreed, a tiny smile on her lips. There was a measure of pride in her voice, as if she were proud of teaching him well enough to figure out the functions of divine weaponry on his own.

She looked up. "I believe it is time for five of you to return to camp. I will ask Nike to return and take you."

The questers shuddered slightly. Athena looked amused again. "She did the 'Victory is Life' quote, didn't she?"

Harry nodded. "Ever since that show came out, she's been quoting it. Don't pay too much attention to it, heroes," the Goddess of Wisdom told them.

They all relaxed, although now they were wondering what show Nike could be quoting. To a person, they all blinked when they realized the speed of their thoughts and the clarity of their memories. Athena's boon was definitely something else.

They trooped out after respectfully bidding the goddess goodnight, and waited for Nike to reappear.

"I think I'm going to go to college," Louis announced out of the blue.

"Eh?" the guys chorused together. "You? College?" Jack – or Jim? – said alone.

"With Lady Athena's boon? Damn straight I'm going to college," the older demigod replied. Harry furtively looked around to make sure Hestia wasn't there to reprimand him on his language. "That last quest? We all made it out alive, but ghosts? Man, I _hate_ ghosts. So – I think I'll retire. Go to college. Settle somewhere, find a wife, do the whole two-point-three kids and white picket fence thing."

"You can do that?" Annabeth asked, surprised. Silena nodded agreeably, that was news to her too.

"For us, yes," Louis said. "The smell from our divine parents is there, but it's not that strong. We should be able to hide in a city and our smell will get lost in the masses. But if you're a child of the Big Three? Not a chance. Monsters will keep coming after you."

Harry wondered who the Big Three were, but then his Athena-boosted mind came up with an answer. The Big Three were probably Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades; although then he wondered why their sisters weren't represented. Hera and Hestia didn't have demigods, but Demeter did. Shouldn't she be as powerful as her younger brothers?

While he thought the whole thing through, Nike rattled up in the chariot. "Well hello there, Kiddos," the goddess greeted them. "Survived the encounter with Athena?"

They all nodded obediently. Harry said goodbye to his friends as they stepped, one by one, into the chariot. With all of them aboard, the goddess gave him a wave, and the chariot took to the skies. Harry waved after them, and he noticed a few of the demigods wave back before it went out of sight.

Harry grinned, despite the lectures, it had been a good day. He emerged the shield again, and studied it for a bit. It was beautiful. Grinning wider, he hid it again.

Time to go back to Helios' temple. He wanted to sleep in his own bed tonight.

As he walked, he suddenly stopped. Where was the tapestry from Arachne that he'd wanted to hang up in Helios' temple? He hadn't seen it, or the other tapestries, at camp, and with all the excitement, he'd completely forgotten to ask about them.

He huffed, angry at himself for forgetting, and made his way to the temple. He'd fire-travel to camp tomorrow and ask; hopefully it hadn't gotten lost.

When he arrived at the temple, and had gone inside, he smiled widely. The rolled-up tapestry was lying next to one of the walls of the huge central courtyard. Apparently, someone had already delivered it. That was a relief.

He turned to the statue. "Hi Mister Helios! Have I got an adventure to tell you about… !"


	20. Chapter 20

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 20**

**AN: I usually try to refrain from (long) Author's Notes, but I have been getting repeated questions on various topics and decided to answer them here, as some answers are very far away, story-wise. :)**

**1) Voldemort is dead. Hades has his soul, and he's frying nicely in Tartarus now. No, he won't be making a reappearance.**

**2) Yes, Harry will make his way to Hogwarts when he's 11; he's 9 now, so there are two more years story-time to go before he gets there.**

**3) For those of you who want Harry to learn magic, despite him being too young for Hogwarts – rejoice. This chapter is the one where he meets the magic teacher I've been alluding to. :)**

**4) Bai Hu, the Western Wind, is from Chinese mythology. However, the characterization I am using, as well as the concepts of energy work, are from Kylie Chan's excellent 'Dark Heavens' Trilogy. If you like urban fantasy mixed with Chinese mythology, you might want to give those books a chance, I can highly recommend them.**

**And now, back to the regularly scheduled story. ;)**

Harry gave a wave to the rising sun, once more thinking that it winked back at him. He wouldn't put it past Mister Apollo to wink the sun at him, but it happened so fast each time that he couldn't actually be sure it wasn't his imagination. Sometimes, gods loved playing with a mortal's mind.

Putting the winking sun out of his mind, Harry found a nice spot in the backyard of Helios' Temple, right next to the hot springs, and sat down with his legs crossed. Now that he could hold _Quiet Standing_ for long stretches of time, he wanted to see if he could realize his inner energy. According to Bai's martial arts book, only about one in ten thousand could do so.

The book also said that being able to do so would give a person some rather exceptional abilities, and Harry wanted those.

He'd completed the first steps already; he was very good at meditating, he wasn't partaking in alcohol or any other drugs that would affect his body, and he slept at least eight hours a night to ensure he was well-rested.

He skipped the requirement for being a vegetarian. He loved eating too much, and he couldn't fathom giving up on meat, fish, or poultry.

The book also told him not to have any 'intimate partners', whatever those were. Harry guessed it meant he wasn't to do any grown-up stuff with other people. That wouldn't be an issue, he'd thought with a shudder.

Despite the trip to Rome, Harry had been able to prepare his body well, with a combination of yang, with strong and forceful activity, and yin, meditation and _Quiet Standing._ His body's energies would need to be balanced before he could realize his inner energy.

Harry closed his eyes and sunk into meditation. He sunk deep, until his senses registered nothing but dark emptiness, then sunk deeper. His extremities floated away, seemingly no longer attached to his body. He felt like he existed as a pinprick of glowing light between his eyes.

Energy flowed, bounced, brightened and darkened based on his heartbeat, on his respiration, and the tiniest of movements of his corporeal body.

Three centers of energy were the focal points of the web of energy spreading throughout his body.

The lowest nexus, three finger-widths below his navel, held _ching_, the essence of life.

The middle nexus was located at his heart, and held _chi_, the breath of life.

His uppermost nexus was located on his forehead, between his eyebrows, and held s_hen_, the energy of spirit.

Those three focal points were also where, theoretically, a sufficiently advanced energy practitioner could convert one energy into the other at will. Chi moved his body, but ching was the essence of life – as long as a person had ching, they would not age or die of old age.

It was theoretically possible for a person to generate _chi_, convert it into _ching_, and achieve immortality.

Harry wasn't interested in immortality. Besides, _ching_ wasn't fully realized until he had passed puberty, because that particular type of energy was linked closely to the stuff grown-ups did.

Like Mister Zeus and that poor nymph. Disembodied, Harry felt a shudder travel through his energy network, as if his body had just shuddered.

Harry moved his awareness across the network of energy permeating his body. His _ching_ was well for his age, he supposed, not really having anything to measure it again. His chi flowed freely, and would be the energy type he would be practicing the most with.

He moved his awareness up, and studied his shen center, and felt like frowning, if he had a body to frown with. His shen center, his upper nexus, it was there, and it held energy, but almost all the energy that went _into_ it would also _vanish_ from it, as if something were sucking it dry.

Then, he remembered his mother's protection. _Shen_ was the energy of spirit, and likely it was the energy that would fuel magic. Instead, his mother's protection was siphoning off his shen energy to hide him from monsters and detectors.

He studied it closely. The amount of shen being drawn off was substantial, and he had compensated by generating a fair amount of shen out of his chi in order to fuel it. Miss Circe was right; if the protection broke, he would have a huge amount of shen, magic, available to him.

Well, it was huge compared to the trickle of chi that was being converted into ching to sustain his life, anyway. Perhaps this was the natural order of things, and perhaps it wasn't. He didn't know, having nothing to compare it to.

He drew another breath, and saw his energy network light up with the influx of energy. He had made it this far, which was further than most ever got.

He studied the visualization of his energy for just a few more moments, enjoying the sheer _beauty_ of it ebbing and flowing through his body with each breath and heartbeat.

Finally, he drew a deeper breath, and ignored the brighter pulse of energy that resulted from it.

He took control over his chi and visualized moving it to his hands. The energy flowed, slowly yet surely, across the energy pathways in his body, to his hands; they glowed with the power of it.

That was step one, it was more than most people ever got. As it was, it wouldn't make him superhuman in either strength or speed, but it would still give him a boost. It was a shortcut, if you will, a way to skimp on training. It released more of his _potential_, what he should be able to do eventually with training.

It felt like a cheat, however, so he would still train and do it the proper way. With more training, his potential would be higher, and the boost would be greater for it.

Moving the energy to various body parts would also provide some protection; eventually, with enough training, it would provide quite a lot of protection. So there, too, Harry would train harder for a greater outcome.

Now came the hardest part, the part that nearly everyone failed at doing. One in ten thousand, the book had said, and Harry hoped to be one of them. He visualized moving the energy _out_ of his folded hands, creating a ball.

The energy flashed and disappeared instead, and Harry grunted when he was suddenly and abruptly thrown out of his meditative state, only to find himself flat on his back.

He was panting deeply and felt a bone-deep weariness overcome him, as if he hadn't slept in several days. His body felt heavy and slow, and his thoughts dragged.

Slowly, he got up. That had been a partial success. He'd managed to visualize his energy and had managed to control it within his body. He'd failed at externalizing it, but it was still more than most people ever got.

He drew a breath and felt the tightness in his chest. Dragging his feet, he managed to get inside, and make something to eat for breakfast. After sharing his breakfast with Helios, who communicated concern, Harry managed to get to his bed, and fall into it fully dressed.

He was asleep partway through the fall.

He woke up some hours later, due to a delicious smell teasing his nose. With a groan, he stretched like a cat before rolling out of bed. For a moment, he wondered who would be cooking, but then he realized it was probably Hestia.

Still half asleep, he wandered towards the kitchen, curious as to what Hestia would be cooking up. It smelled delicious, but he couldn't identify what it was.

He entered the cooking area and found that it was indeed Hestia who was producing the delicious smells. The goddess was in her usual nine-year-old form, and was stirring a large pot, humming quietly to herself.

Harry grinned. "Hi Hestia!" he greeted his all-time favorite goddess, and took a few quick steps, already opening his arms to give her a big hug.

But then he remembered how she hadn't been pleased with him about the whole statue-through-the-fire thing, and realized that she may not _want_ him to give her a hug. So, he hesitated, just a few steps from her.

Hestia saw him approach, smiled at him, then had her smile turn brittle when he stopped.

Stepping closer herself, she closed the gap and hugged him first. "What's wrong, Harry?" she asked, gently, yet relaxing when she felt his arms come up to embrace her in turn.

"I..." the boy hesitated. "I wasn't sure if you'd want me to hug you," he finally admitted.

She pulled back slightly so she could see him in the eye. "Why would I not want you to hug me?" she asked, still kindly, yet surprised at the same time.

His shoulders dropped slightly, and he looked down. "You were mad at me," he whispered.

"I was upset," Hestia corrected gently. "You nearly killed yourself. I was worried, and I wanted you to not repeat the mistake, that's all." She tightened her hug. "That doesn't mean I don't want my hug. Remember that I also said I am extremely proud of you for the way you dealt with Arachne. That was simply wonderful of you."

Harry relaxed suddenly, leaning against her as he clung to his favorite goddess. "Okay," he whispered.

She smiled her usual, kind, Hestia smile and patted him on the back. In the end, Harry was still that little boy in the cupboard, convinced that nobody wanted him. She would _have_ to keep that in mind for the next time.

He pulled away, tentatively smiling at her. At the sight of her smile, his became more genuine, finally convinced that she wasn't still angry at him.

His attention shifted when the pot bubbled. "What are you cooking?" he asked. "It smells delicious!"

Hestia's smile widened slightly. "Ukrainian style red beet borscht," she said. "I thought I'd try something Slavic for a change."

Harry already had his nose over the put, looking at the red soup as it bubbled happily. "I came by and found you sleeping. Helios communicated worry, so I thought I'd cook something filling," she went on to explain. "What happened?"

"I was doing energy work," Harry explained. "I was able to generate _chi_ and move it around in my body, but I failed at externalizing it. It vanished instead."

Hestia gave him an inscrutable look, before shaking her head, and ladling borscht into bowls. "Come, let's eat, and you can explain in greater detail what you just described. I have no idea what those things mean."

Harry gratefully accepted the bowl and waited politely for Hestia to have her own and sit down. A wicker basket of homemade bread appeared as well, and together, they started eating.

The young boy made appreciate noises as he devoured the food; the energy work had depleted him. Hestia smiled indulgently at the sight of Harry attacking the food.

"Is it good?" she asked with a smile.

Harry nodded rapidly, swallowing the bread and soup in his mouth, and said, "it's delicious! Like always," he added.

Hestia refrained from commenting on how her food only tasted as a good home-cooked meal should taste, and instead asked, "can you explain your earlier comments now? Or should I wait until you've had more soup?"

Harry grinned, and looked at the large pot, seemingly playing at thinking it over.

"I was doing energy work," Harry then said, turning back to his bowl and grabbing another slice of homemade bread. "According to the Martial Arts book, the body has an energy network, energy from breathing and heartbeat and stuff, and that gets sent around the body."

Hestia nodded, and listened politely as she ate in silence.

"There are three centers of energy, called _dan tian_ in Chinese." He pointed to his head. "_Shen_, is the energy of spirit. I think that includes magic because it seems like something is taking energy from it when I look at it." He moved his hand lower, to his heart. "Chi is the breath of life. Chi energy is what moves the body and stuff. It's chi energy that I was trying to externalize. According to the book, about one in ten thousand can externalize it, and literally hit people with it. Mine erupted instead and knocked me flat."

He mopped his bowl clean with a slice of bread, glanced at the pot. Hestia smiled, waved her hand, and a ladle of soup moved itself from the pot to refill Harry's bowl. "Awesome," he whispered. "Thanks, Hestia."

"You're welcome," Hestia answered, a big believer in politeness. "You were talking about your failed experiment," she reminded him.

Harry nodded, and motioned for a space underneath his belly button. "Ching is the essence of life. Without ching, you die. It's also tied to grown-up stuff, apparently, and it won't come into full power until after I hit puberty."

Hestia nodded, although she was more interested in hearing about the thing that had knocked Harry flat. Seemingly recognizing what his favorite goddess wanted to hear, he explained, "Normally, you'd recover the chi if you expel it like that. Because mine erupted, I lost it. Losing that much chi is exhausting, which is why I made some breakfast and dropped into bed. It's also draining, which is why I'm so hungry."

"So, it didn't hurt you beyond making you tired and hungry?" Hestia asked, just to confirm.

"No, it didn't," Harry reassured her. "And because it just… vanished is the best I can describe it… it can't hurt anyone else, either."

"Hmm," Hestia hemmed in indecision. "As long as it doesn't hurt you, I suppose," she added. "Promise me that you will be careful. You've been under medical care far too often for my liking."

It still felt strange to the young boy to realize that someone _cared_ whether he got hurt or not. Pulling himself up, he said, as seriously as a nine-year-old could, "I promise I'll be careful, Hestia."

"Good," the Goddess of the Home stated, politely cleaning her plate with a slice of bread, before changing the subject entirely. "I came by for a very different reason. I was finally able to contact the person I have in mind as your tutor in magic. He has agreed to see you, then make a decision on whether he will teach you afterwards."

Harry nodded. "That seems to be as usual," he said with a tiny smile. "Quite a few teachers seem that way."

Hestia gave him an amused smile. "Indeed," she replied casually.

"Who is he?" Harry asked, wondering who his teacher was going to be. "And what is he like?"

Hestia drew a breath and seemed to think for a few moments. "He has had many names through time," she answered carefully. "He is also the oldest of us, gods. He is… an enigma of sorts." She focused on Harry, then went on to say, "you recall that gods require belief and worship to continue existing. If people stop believing in the deities, they fade, like Helios, and his sisters Selene and Eos."

A mournful pall fell over the table as Helios' presence recalled fading.

"However, _he_ has been around the longest out of all of us gods, and his worship faded millennia ago. Most people no longer even recall the name he used back then."

Harry frowned. "And he hasn't faded?"

Hestia nodded. "And yet he hasn't faded," she confirmed. "I don't know what name he will prefer you call him by, but for us gods, we once knew him as _Marduk,_ the God of Magic of Sumer."

Harry blinked, cocked his head, and recalled the history books Athena had him study. "Wasn't Sumer the first great civilization? Older than the Ancient Egyptians, even?"

"Exactly," Hestia confirmed. "And its pantheon faded and disappeared millennia ago. And I mean, completely disappeared, not like Helios, with faded whispers clinging to existence. The entire pantheon has long-since vanished."

"Except for Marduk," Harry said.

Hestia nodded. "Except for Marduk," she confirmed. "Rumors among the gods are that he has such knowledge of magic that he no longer requires worshipers, however those rumors haven't been confirmed. None of us dare ask."

Harry blinked in surprise. Someone the gods were afraid of?

Hestia nodded slowly. "Yes, Harry. As I said, he is the oldest among us, predating even the existence of the elder gods."

The boy frowned. "I… don't understand. I mean, the histories tell how the world was formed. How can he be older than that?"

"Metaphysics is not my area of expertise," Hestia said, apologetically. "However, think of it like this. You are aware that different pantheons exist, correct? Like your friend Thor, or that Bai Hu person who gave you that incredibly dangerous martial arts book?"

Harry nodded obediently. Hestia went on, "Their pantheons have their own creation myths. And yet, they all exist. And yet, we only have one world, and one universe."

Harry's mouth opened. Then it closed. Then he thought furiously for a few moments. "That… makes no sense."

"And your beloved dinosaurs predate all of us," Hestia went on with a gentle smile. "I'm sure that, if you asked a dozen gods or goddesses of wisdom, you would get a dozen different answers. The fact remains that we do not know, not that many of us will admit to it. And yet, Marduk has been around since before our eldest of gods."

"Oh," Harry muttered.

"Maybe he will explain it to you. Maybe he won't. But in the end, Harry, you have to remain conscious of one thing. Marduk knows magic in ways nobody else knows magic. He prefers to wander the world and meddle in the mortal world every now and again, and to be left out of petty power struggles." Hestia sighed, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "And he has the power to enforce such a decision. Gods fear him for a very good reason; with magic, more than with anything else, _age brings power_."

"And he is the oldest among you," Harry said like an obedient schoolboy. It made sense now why Hestia kept hammering on this man's age.

"He likes taking on a student every now and again, students that become legends in their own right. That is why I was able to ask him to see you," Hestia concluded. "It took time to track him down as he wanders the world, invisible to divine senses, doing who knows what."

Harry was reluctant to be excited about the situation; this Marduk sounded not only powerful but also rather strange.

Hestia reached out and patted his hand. "Don't worry, everything will be fine. Tomorrow, I will take you to the plains of Africa, where I'll introduce you."

The young boy just nodded reluctantly, wondering how the meeting would go.

00000

Harry resisted the urge to hold Hestia's hand when they stepped into the fire at the Temple of Helios. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't nervous about meeting his potential magic teacher. Nor scared.

It wasn't really working that well.

They arrived safely from a merrily burning campfire, built up out of a few logs in a star formation, somewhere on the plains of Africa, just as Hestia had said. In the distance, a couple of giraffes strode by.

Harry, who had never seen giraffes except in a zoo, stared at the gangly animals as they reached _down_ to feast on a young tree.

"So, this is the boy you told me about, girl," a male voice drummed from behind Harry. It was low, this voice, and it reverberated in Harry's midriff. Immediately, he disliked how Hestia had been addressed.

"Yes, sir," Hestia said politely, looking somewhat surprised, yet giving a respectful half-bow in the direction of the voice anyway. Harry turned, tearing his eyes away from the African wildlife, and focused on the speaker.

The man had a deep and dark skin complexion, looked to be in his mid-forties, and had muscles that would be the envy of gods all over the world. He was dressed in a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned all the way down, revealing his muscled chest and abdomen, and a pair of khaki pants.

"Hi," Harry managed. Marduk's eyes were a brown so deep they resembled the blackness of his skin tone, yet deep within them a… _power…_ burned. Harry's instincts flared into life, urging him to be cautious and careful.

He didn't need his instincts to tell him that.

"Yes, yes, hello," the man said, stepping up and wandering around Harry, as if studying him from all angles. "I see, I see," he then added. "The potential's there, for sure."

"Thank you?" Harry offered.

"At least you didn't waste my time, girl," Marduk told Hestia, ignoring Harry. "Not like the last dozen brats various gods and goddess brought to me for 'training'."

"Thank you, sir," Hestia answered politely, trying again. Harry felt his hackles rise at the way Marduk was treating his all-time favorite goddess.

Marduk waved it off. "Yes, yes," he muttered. "I'll take the boy for a few hours. You can go, girl."

Harry ignored the fact that this man was basically ignoring him, neither paying attention to him nor asking his opinion, but he could _not_ ignore the way this man was talking to Hestia! His instincts tried to take over, tried to get him to calm down, get him to do _anything_ other than become angry – and it only made Harry angrier.

How _dare_ this man speak to Hestia in such a fashion! "No," Harry said, before Hestia had a chance to reply.

Marduk looked incredibly surprised, as if the notion of someone telling him _no_ didn't register. "What did you say, boy?"

"No," Harry repeated, balling his fists and somehow managing _not_ to fling the dozen insults on the top of his mind at the man. "I don't like you. You're mean to Hestia. I don't want to learn from you." he turned to Hestia. "Thanks for trying, Hestia. But he's _mean_. Let's go home. I'll wait for Hogwarts."

Hestia looked surprised, and unsure, when Marduk burst out laughing. Suddenly, he was standing right next to Harry, and slapped a big hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hah. I like you!" he declared, then turned to Hestia. Suddenly, Harry's instincts felt sheepish.

"Sorry for the attitude, Hestia," he told the goddess. "But I had to be sure. You'd be surprised how many potentials will suck up and allow me to insult their patrons, _right in front of them_, and never say a thing."

"You're forgiven," Hestia said, with her usual and gentle smile. "Although your attitude was quite surprising."

Harry frowned, and looked at Hestia. "While talking to me before, Marduk was polite and courteous. The change in attitude was rather dramatic," she explained.

Marduk shrugged. "I had to be sure," he said, looking at Harry. "I don't take rag dolls or wimps as students, Harry," he told the boy. "Standing up to me takes courage, just as learning true magic takes courage." He clapped Harry on the shoulder again.

"You were pretending?" Harry asked, just to be sure.

"Yes, definitely," Marduk replied, grinning. His voice was still as deep as it had been before, and he still looked muscular, but something had changed. His voice no longer made Harry's midriff rattle, and his eyes, while still nearly black, no longer had that otherworldly glow in them.

"And you were trying to scare me," Harry added.

Marduk grinned wider. "Indeed I was. And despite that, you told me no."

Harry only looked half-convinced. The Sumerian God of Magic clapped him on the shoulder again. "If it wasn't necessary, I wouldn't do the test. I don't take students who don't have the gall to stand up and tell me off. You need courage to learn true magic, and I've learned that standing up to me is usually a good indication of whether or not a potential student has what it takes or not."

Harry nodded slowly. He still didn't like what had happened, but it made sense. "But what about people who have the courage, but simply don't mind the attitude?" the young boy asked.

The god's grin turned into a smile. "Already questioning me, good, good," he said. "Well, young Harry, if a potential student doesn't mind the attitude, or doesn't mind me insulting their patrons in front of them, then they are not the sort of people I personally would enjoy teaching."

The boy nodded. He could accept that. Somewhat.

He'd keep an eye on Marduk. This wasn't something he'd soon forget.

"Nor should you," Marduk answered. "Eventually, you'll come to see the necessity yourself, when you take on students of your own."

Harry blinked. Had Marduk just read his mind?

"No," Marduk answered, chuckling. "But your face is easy to read when you've been around as long as I have."

The young demigod nodded hesitatingly, not at all comfortable with the knowledge that the god in front of him could either read his mind – or could read his face well enough it may as well be called mind-reading.

"So, shall we have a few hours to see whether we will work well together, or will you return with Hestia and wait for the mortal wand-wavers to teach you their parlor tricks?" Marduk asked, his tone light and joking.

Harry smiled slightly, apparently Marduk didn't have a high opinion of mortal magic-users. Then again, if he has been around as long as Hestia said he was, Marduk likely had more magic than anyone else on the planet. "Sure," the boy finally said, making up his mind to give the god a second chance.

"Great, great!" Marduk said, clapping the boy on the back this time. He turned to face Hestia. "I'll take Harry for a few hours, show him some basics. I'll return him afterwards, safe and sound."

"Thank you," the goddess of the home answered with an easier smile. "Harry, I will see you later."

The young boy nodded, smiling. "See you later, Hestia," he replied.

Marduk waved one of his big, coal-shovel sized hands, and said, "Come, Harry. Walk with me."

Harry nodded, and said, "Alright, Mister Marduk," before followed his latest teacher. Well, Harry hoped Marduk would be his latest teacher.

Marduk waved his hands. "Just 'Marduk' is fine," he said. "I want my students to work with me. I don't want wimps blindly obeying me."

Harry nodded. Despite himself, he found that he liked the god's attitude. "Alright, Marduk," he said.

The man grinned, then launched into his explanation. "Magic," Marduk said, "basically depends on one thing, and one thing alone. Belief."

Harry blinked, and looked up at the big dark man. "Belief?" he asked, wondering.

The Sumerian God of Magic nodded. "Belief," he repeated. "Humans love saying things, quantifying things, making rules for things, putting things in boxes. No matter what is said, magic boils down to belief. Belief shapes reality. Know this, understand this, and you can shape reality around you. Magic."

Harry looked up at the man, trying to comprehend just what it was that he was being told. "So…" the young boy finally said, "if I believe something, it will happen?"

Marduk grinned. "Theoretically, it _might_ happen," he answered. "Because, Harry – _you are not alone_, are you? Other people live here too. And out there," he waved his huge hands to the skies, "Live many different peoples. _Their_ belief matters, too."

"Ah," Harry answered. That made sense. Everyone believed things, so their combined belief would ensure reality remained stable… if he understood it correctly.

"Good," Marduk said, grinning. "I see you're getting it. Yes, the combined pressure of the belief of people will keep reality – somewhat – stable. But you must understand, Harry, at a fundamental level, reality _isn't_ stable. It's inherently _unstable_. I believe the mortals call it the 'uncertainty principle' or some such. It's not really uncertain, of course, but it's close enough. Thing is – at a fundamental level, simply observing reality will alter it."

Harry nodded silently, absorbing what he was being told. Athena's boon was working overtime, he knew it. There was no way he would be able to comprehend what Marduk was telling him in the past without it.

"There are still things I do not know, of course," Marduk said. "Some things are simply beyond a human being's ability to comprehend. But, nearest as I can tell, that is how it works."

Harry nodded again, still working his way through. "So, basically, if you want something hard enough, it'll happen?"

"Yes and no," Marduk replied. "Don't pull a face like that, young man. You'll find many answers will be the same. Magic is an artform, not a science, and it will change the artist as much as the artist influences it," he chided when Harry frowned.

"In theory, you believing something will happen will cause it to happen. As I said, though, there are other people out there, so their belief may override yours. Now, for most magic, there are three tenets. The first is belief. A 'you _will_ cause this change, you are master of the universe and it _will_ obey you' kind of belief."

Marduk looked at Harry. "It is nothing more than arrogance, and is the reason why many, if not all, magic-users are arrogant. You need that arrogance, that belief in your own abilities, in order to cause magic to happen. The more belief you have, the easier it is."

The boy nodded obediently, although it didn't look like he liked the subject matter. Marduk explained further, "the second tenet is a visualization. What is it you are trying to perform or achieve? The better you visualize your objective, the easier it is. The smaller the change you are trying to make to achieve your objective, the easier it is."

Harry nodded again, liking that tenet a lot more.

"The final one is power. This ties in with the first two tenets. The bigger the change, the more power you'll need. There are exercises to increase your power, allowing you to make bigger changes. With your visualization shaped properly and with sufficient power, you can achieve anything." Marduk grinned. "It's the reason all the gods are afraid of me."

Harry squinted slightly, his mind making connections he was sure he wouldn't have been able to make without Athena's boon. "You're not a normal god, are you?" he finally asked, before slapping a hand in front of his mouth, realizing just how offensive that statement could be seen as.

Marduk burst out laughing. "You're a sharp one," he said, still chuckling to himself. "No, Harry. I am not a god. I am a human, just like yourself."

Harry looked astonished. "But Hestia said that you've been around the longest!"

The black man nodded in agreement. "Any sufficiently skilled user of magic can figure out immortality. It doesn't even take that long. Most should figure it out within fifty or sixty years or so, if they're smart and determined enough."

The young boy's eyes grew large. Marduk saw sixty years as 'not that long'? "How old are you, if I can ask?" he asked, trying to sound polite but failing miserably in hiding his surprise.

Marduk laughed again. "I am unsure," he finally said, ruffling Harry's hair. "We measured time very differently when I was born. I know it was quite some time before the Great Cold, though." He blinked when Harry looked confused. "The Ice Age, I think you call it these days. It went up and down for a bit, but I've been around since well before the last time it got to its maximum."

"Oh." That was about the only thing Harry could manage. His boosted memory recalled a book Miss Athena had made him read about glacial periods. The last Glacial Maximum was 22,000 years ago… and Marduk claimed to be well older than that. It was a timescale that boggled his mind.

"Yes. Oh," Marduk said easily. "I definitely wasn't the first to figure out magic, but I was _really_ good at it, and I kept working at it. Like I said, figuring out immortality isn't that hard to do when you're a skilled user of magic. I started traveling the world, meddled in some civilizations here and there, played 'God of Magic' a few times. In ancient Sumer, I even played my own father and called myself 'Ea' before 'transitioning' power to myself. That was a laugh and a half. I'm old enough to have forgotten my birthname, even. It's why you're calling me 'Marduk' now, it's as good a name as any."

Harry just gaped at his latest teacher, who so effortlessly claimed at being able to pass himself off as a god – successfully.

He shook his head and jumped track. "So, are there many immortal magic-users around?" he asked.

Marduk grew somber. "A human mind isn't meant for immortality," he finally answered. "After several hundred years, your mind fills up and you're unable to gain new memories. I found a way to store my memories in the Akashic Records, but most people who get that far decide to just… let go." He turned to Harry. "You may find yourself doing the same thing if you ever get that far, Harry. Imagine everyone you love dying and you alone remaining behind. Imagine your mind being unable to absorb new memories or experiences."

Harry looked somber. He didn't like the picture Marduk painted. Immortality didn't sound as awesome as he thought it would be.

"If you're ever in Paris, try looking up an old student of mine. Nicky Flamel managed immortality, I think he's over 600 years old now. He claimed he discovered the 'philosopher's stone' to keep the wand-wavers off his back. Anyway, if you're ever in the neighborhood, look him up. He's always been a sharp one and may be able to give you better advice than I could. I'm about as far removed from you as I can be and still be human so our perspectives are quite different on the topic."

Harry nodded, making sure to remember the name 'Nicky Flamel' for future reference.

"Anyway, we're here to teach you magic, not discuss immortality," Marduk said, looking to his left, where some antelope were staring at them. "The first thing I'll have you do is focus your magic into a ball of light. It's easy to do and doesn't take much power to accomplish."

Harry nodded. Marduk remained silent, apparently waiting for something.

When it became apparent his teacher wasn't going to instruct him in anything, the boy timidly asked, "Ehm… how do I do that? Is there a spell?"

The ancient dark-skinned man blinked. "Right," he said. "Cup your hands and will your magic to form a ball of light."

"Just will it?" Harry asked, cupping his hands.

His teacher nodded. "And believe in it, of course."

The boy stared at his hands, willing light to appear in between his cupped hands. Nothing happened.

Marduk sighed. "You don't believe so it won't happen," he said. "You have to _believe_."

Harry just nodded and tried harder, pushing to have light appear in between his hands. Still, nothing happened. He grit his teeth, held his breath, and just _pushed_.

"Stop, now you're just looking constipated," Marduk told him, allowing the boy to release an explosive breath.

"Maybe it's because my mom locked my magic?" Harry asked.

The man stared at the boy for a second, then snorted. "She believed she needed to do things that weren't necessary, so of course magic made them real," he answered. "Harry, I've been on this earth longer than anyone else, and yet no god or monster can find me unless I let them. My magic isn't 'locked' or 'sacrificed' for this protection. What does that tell you?"

Harry looked surprised, but managed to engage his brain and think anyway. "Ehm… that you don't need to continuously feed magic to a protection spell?"

"Exactly!" Marduk said, smiling widely. "You alter the properties of an object. Or an animal. Or a person. In this case, yourself, and make it so that you're undetectable – and presto, you're undetectable."

"It's that simple?" Harry wondered.

Marduk grinned. "Of course not. The theory is, yes. The practice? Well, you'll learn that magic is messy, complex, and more a thing of feeling and instinct than it is logic."

Harry frowned. "I… don't understand," he said.

Marduk grinned. "Close your eyes," he instructed. Harry did so obediently. "Good. Now, imagine the scene where we are standing. Do you have it?" Harry nodded silently, thinking about the vista they had just been looking at. "Describe for me the exact shade of the color yellow of the sun."

"Eh..." Harry managed. "It's bright yellow?"

"Imagine I am blind and don't know color," Marduk said.

Harry opened his eyes and glared at his teacher. "How's that possible? If you're blind you don't know color, so how can I describe the sun's shade of yellow?"

"Exactly!" Marduk said, pointing to the boy. "The difference between magic and science is that with magic, you get an artist's impression of a vista and no two will ever be the same, no matter how much an artist tries. With science, all you're getting is a photograph of what the camera saw. I _can't_ tell you exactly what to do, because with magic, everyone is different, and everyone uses it differently."

"Oh," Harry muttered. "But if magic can't be taught like that, what does Hogwarts teach?"

Marduk grunted. "Wand-waving," he said. "You like cooking, right?"

The boy blinked and nodded confusedly at the jump in subject. "Think of it like this," Marduk said. "The difference between what I'm teaching you and what the wand-wavers do is like the difference between opening a box of cake-mix to bake a cake, or making your own recipe. One will get you instant results. The other is hard work and effort. One will only ever get you the same exact results. The other will allow you to modify the recipe, enable you to make different cakes, enable you to make a small cake for two people or a large cake for a wedding."

Harry nodded again. "Oh," he answered. "So that's what Hogwarts teaches? Single-use spells for single-use results?"

"Exactly," Marduk said. "Oh, they'll teach classes on 'spell crafting' and some such, but it comes down to art versus science again. They try to quantify what can't be quantified, and try to apply rules to something that has no rules. It's easier to grasp, easier to understand, and gets quicker results. But in the end, those that know how to cook for themselves can bake a cake in any circumstance, suited for every circumstance."

Harry grinned slightly, although he felt that Marduk had driven that metaphor into the ground. "How did you know I like cooking?" he wondered.

The dark-skinned man grinned. "Aura-reading is a basic magical skill. You'll get it in half a decade or so, depending on your progress. Anyway, back to magic. Light, please."

Harry cupped his hands again. He focused and thought back to the things he had learned that morning. He tried to focus on his upper _dan tian_, the energy nexus that held and generated _shen_ energy, and tried to summon some. It failed; the energy sucked away by his mother's protection.

"You almost had it, Harry," Marduk told him, obviously monitoring him.

"It got sucked away, I think," the boy answered. "I think it's my mom's protection." His shoulder slumped. "Does that mean I can't learn magic until it vanishes?"

Marduk shrugged. "Just get rid of it if it bothers you," he answered. "If you're worried about monsters attacking you, I can probably conjure something up."

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised. "Miss Circe said she wouldn't mess with it because it was beautiful."

Marduk grunted. "It's not bad, I suppose," he replied. "If only the user who put it on you understood magic."

The boy felt that statement as a slight against his mother and frowned at his teacher. "My mom put that enchantment on me!" he protested.

"I know," Marduk answered, as if not picking up on Harry's disgruntled attitude. "Like I said, it's not a bad enchantment, but your mom, like most people these days, see magic like electricity, and think you need to keep feeding it. And since they believe it..." he said, trailing off and looking at Harry.

"And because they believe it, magic makes it true," Harry picked up. "Because belief shapes reality, you said."

"Exactly," the bigger man said, grinning at Harry having the correct response. "Magic makes changes. If you want it, permanent ones. If you want to be invisible to monsters, you _make_ yourself invisible to monsters." The ancient magic-user bent down, picked up a convenient stone, and held it up.

Suddenly, its color changed completely. "It'll stay that color until I change it back," Marduk explained. Just as suddenly, the stone vanished entirely. "It's now invisible to humans. it'll stay that way until I reverse it. I don't need to keep feeding it energy, because it's innate property is _invisible to humans_."

The young boy nodded, finally understand what his teacher was telling him. "How do I break my mother's protection?" he asked.

"Declare it," Marduk answered succinctly.

Harry blinked. "Declare it?" he asked.

"Declare," Marduk said. "Declare that you reject your mother's protection, knowingly and willingly. It's _your_ magic. When you make the declaration, your mother's magic will no longer have control over it. Now. Declare."

Harry closed his eyes. _I'm sorry, mom. I want to learn magic,_ he prayed silently. Of course, thanks to Zeus' edict, there was no response. He hoped his mother wouldn't be too angry or disappointed. "I, Harry Potter, declare that I reject my mother's protection-" as he spoke, his voice took on a ritualistic tinge, almost as if his lips were being guided by a higher force. Deep within him, he could feel changes happening.

"Willingly and knowingly, I reject the protection offered by her spell, and free my magic to do with as I wish," he finished, not knowing where the words came from, but knowing them to be _right_.

Suddenly, his upper _dan tian_ flashed brightly, and for a moment, he could _behold_ the scenery around him in vast, gorgeous colors, understanding the deepest nature of plants and animals and everything else, before it was abruptly wrenched off and his _dan tian_ returned to normal.

Only, now it was actually holding _shen_ energy_._ Marduk was looking at him as if he were studying the young boy. "Light, please," the teacher requested again.

Harry cupped his hands, generated _shen_, and ordered it to form a light.

The resulting flash nearly blinded him, and he yelped with pain and surprise.

Marduk burst out laughing. "Well done!" he crowed, still laughing. "Next time, you may want to visualize a less intense light," he added with a joking tone.

The young boy just nodded, and tried again, this time thinking of a dim glow bulb. The light that appeared was yellow and dim.

"Well done!" Marduk complimented again. "You have talent. Now, for more complex things, you must keep the results firmly in your mind. And if possible, visualize even the methods to create those results."

Harry frowned, and looked confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Marduk thought for a moment. "Take that tree, for example," he said, pointing to a nearby tree. "Let's say that you want to bring it down for some reason or other."

Harry nodded, so Marduk went on. "Now, if you just visualize that tree against the ground, the amount of power required to make that change will be substantial, as magic will simply push the tree over or something like it, depending on how you visualize it. On the other hand, if you keep in mind that you want the tree_ cut_ down, and maybe even visualize it being cut down with a sawing motion, the amount of power reduces drastically."

Harry nodded again, thinking about it. "The first pushes the tree over," he said. "The second will try and cut down the tree in one swoop, meaning something really sharp and with lots of force. The last will cut the tree down like with a saw, slower, but uses less energy than the first two," he summarized.

"Exactly," Marduk praised, grinning widely. "Talented and smart, like I said. Now, play with your light for a bit, see if you can change its shape, color, or intensity. Oh, and try and work on your need to cup your hands."

Harry nodded, dropped his hands, and tried to imagine a dot of blue light before pushing _Shen_ into it. The dot appeared, shining brightly. "Whoa," Harry muttered. Marduk simply grinned and kept quiet as the boy played with the light.

"Marduk?" Harry eventually asked, letting the seven lights with – literally – all the colors of the rainbow fade away.

"Yes, Harry?" the ancient man asked, smiling proudly at his student.

"That was easy, once I got the hang of it," Harry said. "If it's that easy, why don't more people do magic? Can _everyone_ do magic, now that I think about it?"

Marduk nodded. "Everyone has the potential for it, but it takes hard work and dedication, as well as a flexible mind. Some have talent, most do not. Those that don't have it will have to work hard at it."

The boy looked confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Marduk thought for a second. "Can you play a musical instrument?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "Have you ever tried?" Marduk continued.

The boy shook his head again. "Then you don't know whether or not you can actually play an instrument," Marduk said. "You could be Mozart and sit down and play the piano without instruction. Or you may be like everybody else and need a decade of training to be able to play a few pieces. With magic, it's the same – there are those who have talent, and those who don't. Of course, magic-users tend to breed with each other, so the talent breeds true. That doesn't mean that anyone else can't do it; it just means they need to work at it."

"Ah," Harry said. "That makes sense." he thought for a few moments. "But you said they're all using wands and spells and such. Why do they do that, if the method you're teaching me is so versatile?"

Marduk grinned for a moment. "It took me the last three hours to teach you enough theory and explain to you the workings of magic before you could conjure a simple light. Using a wand and the appropriate spell, a wand-waver can teach you to create a light in five minutes, with no understanding needed on your end."

"Oh," Harry whispered. "So, it's easier and simpler."

"And more restrictive. Remember the cake-mix analogy," Marduk said. "You can create lights of varying light levels, colors, shapes, and sizes. The wand-waver's method creates one light, and that's it. Yes, my method takes longer. But now you're able to do a lot more."

Harry nodded in understanding. Curiosity bubbled up inside of him. "You said you have had other students, but you hide yourself. It took Hestia a long time to find you. How does that work?"

Marduk winked. "Finding me is usually the first step in getting me to teach you," he answered easily. "If you can find me, or if you can gain the loyalty of someone who can find me, that's usually a good indication that you'll be able to learn what I have to teach."

The boy nodded obediently. "Like Hestia," he said. "Have you had many students?"

"Exactly like your patron goddess," his teacher replied. "I've have hundreds, if not thousands, of students. Every decade or so, someone manages to track me down. I don't mind teaching, it's a nice pastime, so I try not to make too big of a fuss over it," he said with a grin. "Besides, it's amusing to see what people do after I teach them magic."

"Like Mr. Flamel?" Harry asked.

"Like Nicky, yes," Marduk replied. "There was a guy… oh, must've been a thousand to fifteen hundred years ago, I think. Time loses meaning when you've been around for as long as I have. Anyway, he was called Myrddin, and he was from Wales. After I taught him, he Latinized his name, and called himself _Merlin_. He was great fun and had lots of ideas on how to build the perfect society. It fell apart, of course. Humans can be very individualistic creatures, and what's perfect for one is hell for another. Still, he gave it a good try, I have to give him that. He lived by his convictions."

Harry gaped at his teacher. "You taught Merlin? _The_ Merlin? King Arthur's Merlin?"

Marduk burst out laughing again, his deep voice bounding across the plains of Africa. "The legends are out of proportion, Harry, as they usually are. But yes, he was my student at one time."

"Whoa," Harry managed, realizing just who it was that was teaching him.

"Don't let that intimidate you, Harry," Marduk said, patting his back before ruffling his hair. "You'll make a fine magic-user in a decade or two. You've got potential."

"Twenty years?" Harry croaked.

"Yup, no time at all, I know," Marduk said, completely misunderstanding Harry's shock.

"But Hogwarts only takes seven!" the boy protested.

Marduk blinked, looked at the boy, and seemed to finally realize what it was that Harry was saying. "Using wands and spells," the man said. "Single-use, limited,..."

"Cake-mix, right," Harry replied, nodding.

Marduk grinned. "Exactly. And still, ten to twenty years is nothing. There is a reason why most wizards in fiction are portrayed with long grey beards. That's because for most, it takes until they're old and grey to be any good at the craft. You'd be surprised how often fiction gets things right."

"Oh," Harry muttered.

"Yes, oh," Marduk said, chuckling.

"What about women?" Harry then asked, rather cheekily if he said so himself. He couldn't help it, he felt comfortable around Marduk. "They don't grow beards."

Marduk gave him a _look._ "Snarky," he commented, before grinning. "Good. I hate docile little students."

They fell silent, and simply enjoyed looking out over the savannah. A herd of zebras strolled by, and Harry smiled at seeing them. Who wouldn't smile at seeing zebras?

"Now, it's about time I return you," Marduk finally said, breaking the moment. "just keep playing with the lights, try and get them to do interesting things. Next lesson, I'll give you some exercises on strengthening your magical energy, and how to do more complicated visualizations."

"So, there's more to it than just visualizing things?" Harry asked. "I mean, it sounded like, if I can imagine it, I can do it."

Marduk chuckled. "No, Harry. Well, yes, in theory, I suppose, but in reality, you need help with complex things." He thought for a second, then said, "alright, just one more lesson in theory. A quick one, so don't expect anything conclusive."

Harry nodded eagerly.

Marduk waved his hand at a stone, somewhat half-seriously, as if he didn't need to do so but did it only to demonstrate it to Harry. The stone in question rippled and turned into a lion.

"Whoa!" Harry yelped, jumping to halfway hide himself behind his teacher. The big cat sat down on its haunches and started cleaning one of its front paws.

"Whoa," Harry repeated, coming out from behind Marduk now that the animal was docile.

Marduk chuckled again. "Now, do you think I know the exact internals of a lion? And that I know just how much mass I need to create to turn that small stone into a large lion? And which elements I need to transmute to build up the lion's body and internals? Or how to build a brain, and fill it with knowledge and instinct so it doesn't just sit there and die of lacking a heartbeat and not knowing how to breathe?"

"Ehm… no?" Harry offered; his mind awhirl with the complexities that Marduk had just listed.

"No," Marduk confirmed. "For complex magic, like transfiguration or transmutation, or for complicated enchantments like turning something invisible, intangible, or produce flight, and so forth, those are things you can't really visualize completely and in detail. You need help."

Harry nodded, that made sense. "Magic, the fundamental force of the universe, has a kind of… consciousness. You could call it a living memory, too, but sometimes magic gives the sensation of being… aware, so I prefer to think of it as consciousness. It remembers the entire history of the universe, and with proper practice and skill, one can tap into that memory."

"Whoa," Harry breathed again.

"Exactly," Marduk said, grinning. "That memory is called the 'Akashic records'."

"Where you keep your memories," Harry said, following the explanation.

"Exactly," Marduk confirmed. "Those memories contain every event that took place in the existence of the universe. Those memories also deal with other living beings, beings that live far out in space. I'll teach you to access the records eventually, but I warn you now – you will _need_ to stay away from the memories of those alien beings at first. Their points of view are vastly different from ours, and without proper training they can drive you insane in a split second."

Harry looked unconvinced but was willing to go along with what his teacher said.

"Imagine a being that has senses we cannot imagine," Marduk said, seeing the look on his student's face. "Involving concepts that we do not even have words for. Or imagine a creature whose concept of 'sleep' means a six-month hibernation in a deep cave to hide from the bitter cold of its sun being gone."

Harry nodded, suddenly understanding the dangers. "There are creatures out there with a dozen different senses, each sense having concepts attached to them we do not even have words for."

"Sounds overwhelming," Harry whispered.

"It is, and without proper training, accessing those memories in the Akashic Records will overwhelm you instantly." Marduk looked up at the setting sun. "And now, it's time I return you. It's getting quite late."

The boy nodded. "That means it's after lunch time in New York," he said with a grin. "Do you want to stay for a bite to eat? Oh, and what about my protection against monsters?"

Marduk looked at his new student, and grinned. "I made sure no monster could find you since you broke the protection, Harry. You don't need fancy hand motions to do magic. And I'd love some lunch."

The boy grinned. His new teacher was awesome!

**Since Yahoo all but killed their groups, I've had to move my discussion group over to Google groups. Everyone who would like to discuss the chapters before they go up is welcome to join me there. You can find the new group at **

** groups dot google dot com / forum /#!forum/enterprise1701_d**


	21. Chapter 21

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 21**

**AN: Back in the beginning of this story, I received some requests to tone down the survival lessons. However, over the course of time I also received a few comments asking about **_**more**_** survival scenes. Unfortunately, there's no real way to reconcile the two. With Harry now learning magic, 'survival' will soon become trivial to him, so this really is my last chance to write a survival trial – which is a chance I'm not letting go. :)**

Harry took a stance, then threw the shield attached to his left arm. It flew straight and true, before hitting one of the pillars in the backyard of Helios' Temple. The godly weapon struck sparks, then bounced off in an irregular fashion, tumbling to the ground.

The boy frowned, then walked over to pick it up. No matter how many times he tried, it just wouldn't bounce back to him. The comics made it look so easy, but it was turning out to be incredibly hard instead. He didn't even know whether it was even possible at all!

His godly, Athena-given shield was pretty well balanced, and he could definitely hit things with it, but it just wouldn't bounce off in any kind of regular pattern, anything at all that he could use to figure out how to get it to bounce back. It was infuriating!

Having picked up his shield, he made sure it was still in perfect condition. It was, just like the three or four dozen times before.

Once again, he threw the shield, aiming it at the pillar. It hit, struck sparks, bounced, and tumbled to the ground nowhere near where Harry had expected it to land. He sighed again. Throwing the shield could potentially be a very good move, if only it didn't leave him _without a shield_ afterwards. If he could figure out how to bounce it back, he'd have an awesome new skill.

He picked up his shield, attached it to his arm, then dismissed it. He wasn't getting anywhere with it, not today. Maybe he'd have to ask Miss Athena and brave the look of incredible disappointment on her face.

Whether that would be disappointment because he couldn't figure it out for himself, or whether it was disappointment because he was trying to emulate comic books and should know better, he wasn't sure of yet.

Instead, he took another stance, and wove his way through some martial arts sets, pushing himself to be as fast as possible yet retain his accuracy. He couldn't allow himself to get sloppy, after all.

He was well underway, and had worked up a nice sweat, when he heard someone knocking on the doors of the temple. While visitors weren't entirely unheard of, they were rather rare, so Harry wondered who it could be.

Picking up a towel, he started wiping off most of the sweat that had gathered on his face and in his hair as he walked to the door. The knock sounded again, causing Harry to break into a quicker trot. "I'm coming! I'm coming!" he shouted.

He reached the door and started pulling it open. "I'm sorry, I was in the back ya..." he trailed off when he saw that his visitor was one of Artie's gorgeous deer, carrying a metal message tube in its mouth. "Yard," he finished.

The massive animal seemed to study him for a bit, before stepping closer and depositing the message tube in the boy's hurriedly raised hand. "Whoa, thanks," he breathed, slowly reaching up his free hand and petting the deer's soft fur along its neck.

It didn't seem to mind, and so Harry spent a few moments petting it. Finally, the deer seemed to have enough and stepped back, dipping it head in a sort of bow or greeting, its massive rack of antlers making dangerous-looking motions as it did so, before turning, taking three steps, and vanishing.

Harry grinned. He'd gotten to pet one of Artie's deer. Already the day looked up!

Stepping back inside, he looked at the massive statue of Helios. "It was one of Artie's deer with a message," the boy said, holding up the message tube. Helios' presence communicated surprise.

"Yeah, I wonder why she sent me a message too," Harry answered. "I got to pet her deer, though, so that's good."

Helios seemed amused by his response, making Harry grin. "Let's see what she has to write," he said, picking the end cap off the tube and pulling out the parchment scroll inside. It made his grin widen; sometimes the gods could be deliciously old-fashioned, and he loved message tubes and scrolls. Especially with the gods' ancient Greek script that didn't hurt his eyes.

His eyes bounced left to right as he scanned the missive.

"Whoa, this is awesome," he muttered, looking up at Helios' statue. "It looks like I'm set for a new survival test," he told the statue. "Artie tells me to get ready to be away for a week, and that I should report to her camp this evening. Miss Zoë will be taking me somewhere."

Helios communicated acceptance, a slight sense of worry, and a larger sense of support and confidence. Harry grinned at the cornucopia of emotions. "I'll be careful, Mister Helios," he said. "Thanks for believing in me, though."

Helios' presence emoted a hug, which made Harry's smile widen. "I'm going to have to talk to Hestia, and let my other teachers know that I won't be around for the next week or so," he explained to the presence as he walked to the hearth in the living area.

Waving his hand while thinking of Hestia's temple, the fire turned green. "Hi Hestia, it's Harry. Do you have a moment? I've got something to tell you," he asked the flames.

_Sure, Harry. Please come through,_ he heard/felt in his mind. Smiling, the boy stepped up to the fire and was whisked away.

Stepping out of the fire in Hestia's temple, he was met with an empty space. Knowing where his all-time favorite goddess would be hanging out, he walked in deeper, towards the living area, while thinking about the upcoming test.

He wondered where it would be this time. Or how much equipment he would be allowed.

Emerging into the living area, he was abruptly drawn from his thoughts when he realized that Hestia wasn't alone. He blinked at the goddess' visitor, before swallowed painfully.

"Hi Mister Zeus," he managed, somehow able to hide his feelings for the god in question.

"Demigod," Zeus replied, his gaze boring into Harry.

"Harry," Hestia greeted. "Come, sit, have some tea," the Goddess of the Home said, a cup of tea appearing on the table in front of one of the seats. A seat facing Zeus, with Hestia seated at the 'head' of the table.

Harry frowned slightly, now he couldn't make an excuse and leave. "Thanks, Hestia," he said, sitting down, and picking up the cup and saucer. He took a seat and relaxed slightly; the tea was exactly as he liked it.

Well, of course it would be, Hestia had made it, but it still bore commenting on, or so Harry felt. He looked up from his drink to the King of the Gods.

Said King of the Gods was glaring at Harry, his eyes cold and distant. Harry stared back, determined not to blink. Slowly, he noticed the left eyebrow of the god travel upwards.

Hestia calmly sipped her tea, either completely oblivious to, or completing ignoring the, awkward atmosphere hanging between her two visitors.

"So, Harry, you wanted to tell me something?" the Goddess of the Hearth asked, drawing Harry's attention away from the silent battle.

Harry realized he'd looked away first and glanced back at Zeus. The god was smirking. Harry sighed, and dipped his head. Yes, he'd definitely lost that one. Zeus' smirk grew wider.

"Yes, I do," Harry replied to Hestia's question, looking away from the God of Thunder. "Artie's sent me a message. Apparently, Miss Zoë is taking me on another survival test, and I'll be away for a week or so. I didn't want you to worry."

"Still playing in the woods with Artie's Hunters, Harry?" Hestia asked, teasing the boy. "Please be careful."

"Thanks, Hestia. I will," he answered, drinking more tea in an effort to finish it soon and get away from the glaring King of the Gods.

"Please finish your tea in a gentlemanly manner," Hestia chided, obviously having caught on. "There is no reason to rush or hurry."

Harry looked at his tea, then up at the glaring god in front of him, a god that was really smirking now that he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

"Zeus, please stop glaring," Hestia told her other guest. "You're making Harry uncomfortable. It's quite childish."

Zeus' smirk turned into a glare as he focused on his older sister. "But Hestia, he-!"

"He revealed one of your many, _many_ dalliances in front of the others, yes," Hestia said. "It wouldn't be the first time that has happened. I really would prefer it if you two could make things right."

Zeus looked away. Hestia sighed with disappointment. Harry felt like he couldn't dislike the god more at that point. He willfully disappointed Hestia and didn't seem to care!

"Sorry, Hestia," Harry told his favorite goddess. "I didn't know you had a visitor, and I'm making things uncomfortable."

"Nonsense, Harry," Hestia said. "If I had minded, I wouldn't have told you to come through. I was hoping you two could bury this animosity you had for each other, now that chance had brought you together in my temple, but I suppose it was asking for too much."

Harry felt bad for her. He glanced at Zeus, who was still pointedly looking away, glowering. The young demigod sighed again and finished his tea. "I should go," he told Hestia. "I need to let my other teachers know I won't be around for the next week," he said, grasping any excuse at all to get away from the uncomfortable atmosphere.

Hestia seemed to realize the same. "Of course," she said. "Thank you for letting me know."

"I wouldn't want you to worry," Harry told her as he stood up. "It doesn't happen often that you skip a daily visit, but with my luck, you never know."

"And I appreciate the consideration," Hestia said, smiling faintly.

Harry turned to leave but stopped halfway. "Bye Mister Zeus," he tried. The god just waved a hand, and Harry sighed dejectedly. He didn't like the god, not one bit, but had wanted to make the effort for Hestia's sake.

It seemed like this wasn't going to happen until Zeus changed his mind.

Giving Hestia one last look and a nod in farewell, Harry walked back to the fireplace and traveled back to Helios' Temple. He had some tutors to contact.

00000

Harry stepped out of the fire in Artie's camp that evening, dressed in strong clothes and comfortable protective boots. He wasn't wearing a backpack; he'd learned that lesson after his first survival test. He was carrying his bow and a full quiver of arrows as well, although he was halfway convinced he wouldn't be allowed to carry it with him.

He did have dinner, though. There was a large chance that he wouldn't get to eat until he caught something, after all.

"Hi Miss Zoë," Harry greeted his teacher. Artemis' Lieutenant dipped her head and looked him over for a moment. "Hug?" he offered, halfway opening his arms and given her a disarming smile.

"'T is good to see thee, Harry," she answered, while giving him a tolerant little smile. "Handshake," she added, extending her right hand. Harry grinned and shook it.

"Please remove thy weapons and clothing," The Hunter told him the moment they dropped their hands.

Harry blinked, convinced he'd misunderstood her. "Sorry, Miss Zoë?"

"Thou heard me," Zoë repeated with a tiny twitch of her lips. "Please remove thy clothing and weapons. Thou mayest keep thy underthings, but thou must remove everything else."

Harry gaped at her for a few moments, before exploding into a candy-apple red blush. "But you're a Hunter!" he protested.

"So I am," Zoë confirmed. "That hath no relation to this. Please remove thy clothes, or I will be forced to ask Phoebe to shoot thee."

Harry glanced fearfully around, but the Hunter with the biggest bone to pick with men of all shapes, sizes, and ages, was nowhere around.

"Ehm..." Harry muttered, causing Zoë's eyebrows to rise, as if asking him why he wasn't getting on with things.

_Artie, help! Something's wrong with Miss Zoë! I think she's been mind-controlled or replaced or something! Please hurry!_

His prayer was desperate while he fiddled with the buttons of his shirt, trying to stall for time. Never before was the sound of a tent-flap being pulled back so welcome to his ears.

"What is going on?" Artemis asked, stalking from her tent like a deadly hunter. "Zoë? Harry?"

Before Zoë could say anything, Harry pointed accusingly at her. "Miss Zoë's been mind-controlled or replaced or something!" the boy shouted. "She's telling me to take my clothes off and threatening to have someone shoot me if I don't!"

Artie listened with surprise at the boy's rambling, then slowly turned to look at Zoë. "Lieutenant?" she asked.

Zoë flushed slightly. "As thou knowest, My Lady, 't is time for Harry's latest survival test. As a challenge, 't is time for the higher difficulty."

Artie relaxed, then nodded once. "I see. You may want to explain that in the future, rather than ordering someone to take their clothes off. There will be less confusion that way."

Zoë's flush darkened slightly at the mild rebuke. Meanwhile, the Goddess of the Hunt turned to the young demigod, and said, "I told you once that I would strip you to your underwear and drop you in a forest filled with bears."

Harry paled when he recalled the statement in question. Artie's smile took on a definite predatory edge. "Yes," she said, reading his expression. "It's time."

Harry gulped. Artie just smiled and patted his shoulder. "You did the right thing, a plain order to strip is definitely unexpected and out of character. You did well to call me. Next time it could be an imposter."

She turned to walk away, then looked over her shoulder. "I'll leave you at the tender mercies of my Lieutenant now, Harry. Good luck."

He swallowed again, and looked at Zoë, who had a definite evil grin on her face. "Thou believest me to have been replaced?" she demanded.

Harry shrugged. "Well… you did act out of character and I didn't know what was going on," he rambled. "You could have been kidnapped or hurt or taken prisoner or something, and I just want to make sure–"

"True," Zoë said, cutting him off from his rambling. "As My Lady said, 't was a reasonable deduction to make. Now, I shall take thee on thy survival test. Please remove all weaponry and all clothes but thy underthings. This will be a proper challenge."

Harry nodded feebly and started stripping.

"Thy divine tools as well," Zoë said when he blushed spectacularly, dressed only in his boxers.

He looked reluctantly at the rings for Hestia's Lasso and Athena's shield, as well as the bracelets that held Hephaestus' bracers. He gave Zoë his best puppy-dog-eyes look.

She may as well have been carved from stone. He sighed, and extremely reluctantly, took them off. "They shall be well cared for," the Hunter said. "Please remove thy hunting knife as well."

Harry frowned when he pulled out the hunting knife he had tucked in his boxers' waistband. He held it out to Zoë. "Please be careful with it. It saved my life a couple of times, and it was given to me by someone I care greatly about."

Zoë lifted one eyebrow and gave a tine smirk. "As thy other weapons, it shall be well cared for," she replied. "And nice attempt at flattery. Unfortunately, it shall not aid thee, but 't was a nice try nonetheless."

Harry pouted.

Zoë studied him for a few moments, then seemed to make a decision. She turned and started to walk. When Harry made to follow her, she stopped him. "Please remain here. I shall return shortly," she told him, then vanished into the supply tent.

She was back within a minute or two, but those were the most uncomfortable minutes in Harry's life, standing there, stripped to his boxers, in the middle of Artie's camp of Hunters. All of whom were female. And all of whom giggled and whispered when they saw him standing there.

Harry tried in vain to cover up, but it only seemed to make the giggling worse.

Zoë returned with a pair of knee-length shorts. "Please wear these, they shall ease thy mortification."

Harry practically teleported into the pair of shorts. Zoë gave a short nod. "Good. We can depart," she told him. "Please follow."

He trotted to keep up on while on his bare feet, and soon the camp was nothing but a memory. They walked for some time, but luckily it was on grass or sand or soft dirt, so it didn't hurt the soles of his feet.

When they stopped, the sun was low in the sky, the skies were a clear blue, and there was nothing but sand and rocks as far as the eye could see.

"This is where thy challenge starts," Zoë declared, turning to him.

"This isn't a forest filled with bears," Harry said, looking around.

The Hunter grinned. "Forests filled with bears also tend to be filled with food. I think this to be a more worthy challenge. I wish thee luck."

Harry pouted at her, which didn't help the situation in the least. Finally, he sighed and took a good, long, hard, look around. He had no idea where he was, but he refused to panic. Artie's first ever lesson stuck in his mind. _If you panic, you can die in three minutes_. He wasn't about to die.

Taking a deep breath, he studied his new surroundings. The ground was sandy, but the sand was covered with rocks of all shapes and sizes. In three directions, the rocky desert stretched out endlessly, with nothing but sparse vegetation. The entire regions _screamed_ 'desiccation'. Water would be his first priority here.

In the fourth direction, there were mountains not too far away. He took another long, hard, look around and saw nothing better. Mountains would, on average, have more rainfall than the plains, so that was where he would go.

Nodding to himself, decision made, he started his trek. He winced as his bare feet trod over sharp rocks, all the while ignoring Zoë who calmly paced herself behind him.

As he walked, he noticed the sun climbing. That meant that, wherever he was, this was _morning_, not _evening_, as it had been in New York. He sighed; this meant he would be missing a night. This test was getting worse by the minute.

He stopped, closed his eyes, and re-centered himself. He couldn't allow negative thoughts to consume him. If he started out thinking negatively, this would get only harder. This was a test. A challenge. He would meet it head-on, and he would succeed at it!

Nodding to himself, he braved a smile. He didn't know where he was, that just meant he was exploring some place new. He didn't have any water or food, but those mountains were sure to have water, and where there was water, there would be resources.

His smile wasn't so forced anymore now that he had a more positive mindset, and he started walking again.

As the sun climbed higher, so did the temperature. Wind blew across the rocky desert plain, causing the heat to suck the very moisture from his body. He pushed on, closer to the mountains, convincing himself that he would be able to find protection and shelter there.

The pain in his feet grew worse as his trek continued, the rocks and stones not only sharp, but getting hot in the climbing heat. His pace slowed as he picked his away across.

Finally reaching the foothills of the mountain he was aiming towards, he started exploring more deeply. A small valley beckoned him, and his smile, which had been steadily dropping, widened once more.

He knelt next to a patch of green. It seemed like a messy bunch of leaves, but it was something he had seen in Artie's book of plants he'd never heard of. It had a Mongolian name Harry couldn't pronounce, but it translated loosely in English to 'Wild Ass Drink'.

The plant itself wasn't edible, but it was useful for something else. Something he needed right now. He grabbed a large bunch of it, held it over his mouth, and squeezed hard; the liquid that came from it was sour, but it was fluid nonetheless!

He drank a few mouthfuls, until he had all but depleted the patch of the plant he had found. He could drink more, and probably SHOULD drink more, but he didn't want to remove the last of the plant. This way it could grow back and maybe save the life of the next potential traveler to come this way.

He started walking again, his step picking up slightly now that he'd had something to drink. The sun had crested, and Harry wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Finally, he sighed and gave up. This wasn't going to work. Sitting down, he rubbed his tender feet, and found that there were sharp burrs, thorny ones, that had decided to stick themselves to his soles. This was probably how these plants spread their seeds, Harry realized, but right now he wished that they didn't use him to do it.

He needed shoes somehow. The problem was the environment, there were very few plants around, and none of them helpful for footwear. There were no animal resources, not that he could see.

"Miss Zoë?" he asked;

The Hunter turned to face him but said nothing.

"Please turn around," he requested.

Artie's Lieutenant nodded and turned. It wasn't the first time he'd asked such a thing; usually it was because he had to relieve himself. Now it was for a very different reason.

He stripped down the knee-length shorts he'd been given, then stripped off his boxers. He shimmied back into the shorts, then ripped up his boxers, tying the material under his feet to provide as much protection as possible.

When he started walked again, Zoë picked up immediately. She gave a small grin at his feet and his unusual style of footwear, yet remained silent.

His progress was quicker now that his feet weren't being assaulted by rocks and burrs and heat and all kinds of nasties, and he could finally start climbing the mountain.

The first hill was brown and desiccated.

The second was no better.

Nor was the third. The higher he climbed, the further he got, nothing changed; brown, brown, brown. Desiccation.

He turned and looked back, the elevation now allowing Harry to see how far he'd walked. He sighed slightly, he'd found nothing beyond that plant, and that had been hours ago. He was thirsty again, his mouth completely dry.

He glanced at the setting sun. It would be dark soon, and he couldn't climb in the dark. He wasn't confident enough in his skills with magic to climb using a magical light, so he'd have to make do and sleep exposed to the open air. There were no trees at all, nothing he could even begin to think about using as a fuel source for a fire.

The night was bitterly cold as Harry curled up next to large boulder to make a taken effort to stay out of the wind. He had basically skipped a night, so despite the cold and the wind, Harry still managed to catch at least some sleep.

He slept fitfully, both due to the transportation lag and the cold. When he decided to call it quits, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, and Harry shuddered, rubbing his bare arms in an effort to generate heat.

His mind felt sluggish, and for a few long moments, he just sat there. Closing his eyes, he focused on his internal energy.

He wanted to feel at least somewhat warm while he waited for the sun to rise, so tried to do the trick Marduk taught him with fire instead of light. Nothing happened, the s_hen_ energy dissipated.

Frowning, he tried again, creating more _shen_ and throwing it at a fire visualization. A small burst of warm air flowed over him, causing Harry to frown. Why did he create heat, but no fire?

Then he slapped his forehead.

Of course he couldn't create fire – air didn't burn, and fire needed both fuel, oxygen, and heat. Oxygen was there, heat, too, but there was nothing to burn! Of course he couldn't get a comic book-style fireball!

He thought for a few moments, remembering everything that Marduk had taught him. He visualized splitting hydrogen off from water vapor in the air, then burning that.

_Shen_ was sucked out of him, but barely anything happened outside of a small burst of nearly invisible flame as the minute amount of created hydrogen burnt up in a flash.

Harry sighed. Desert, right. No water vapor in the air. He rubbed his forehead and wanted to kick himself. he'd just spent the last half an hour trying to conjure or create fire, had spent precious calories doing so, and had nothing to show for it.

He groaned and got up. Walking would warm him up, and he had to get a move on before the sun got too high and the heat slapped him over the head. He needed water, and he needed it _right now_.

Drawing a breath, he pushed forward again, climbing yet another hill. Maybe it was a mistake to enter the mountains. Everything he'd been taught told him that mountains had more chance of water than the plains, but maybe these were the one set of mountains that were the exception. There were always exceptions.

He climbed the next hill and stopped to look around.

In the far distance, he saw something that made his heart leap. A valley! With greens and dark greens! That _must_ be an oasis, the dark greens along the edge clearly indicated there had to be water there.

With a clear goal in front of his eyes, Harry pushed forward on his improvised shoes, a spring in his step that had been missing until now. Water!

The descent into the valley was steep, and in the end, Harry rode the descent down by sitting down and, using his feet for brakes, slid down the slope until reaching nearly flat ground.

More sand and sharp rocks, but the green of the oasis wasn't too much further. As he traversed the flat desert ground, he frowned at the plethora of animal bones that he came across. That did not bode well.

He stopped next to a camel skeleton; its bones reasonably intact but long-since bleached white in the hot desert sun. For a few moments, he studied it, then decided on grabbing a scapula from the skeleton. It would make an ideal fan to fan a fire with, and it would make an excellent digging tool in case he had to dig for water.

Finally, he reached the green and found it to be high grasses that obscured his sight. He laughed; grass this high needed water!

He explored the oasis at a frantic pace, before coming across a pool. He didn't think twice, and fell to his stomach, sticking his head in the water and drinking deeply. He didn't care about finding a way to boil it, or finding a way to filter it. He needed liquids and he needed them now!

He drank, then sat, then drank some more. He knew from Artie and Miss Zoë that there was only so much water a body could absorb as once. He would just pee out any excess, so it was better to drink some, wait fifteen minutes, then drink some more.

He probably spent close to two hours next to that pool, just luxuriating in having as much fluids as he wanted, cozy in the shadows cast by the tall grass.

Finally, deciding that he had fully rehydrated, he got up. The hot desert sun beat down on him, and he ducked back down. He probably already had minor sunburn from walking around in only a pair of shorts, he couldn't risk it getting worse.

He dug up lots of nice, cool, fresh, mud from the edge of the pool and slathered it on himself as an improvised sunblock, making sure to even cover his face and head.

He stood up again, and studied the pool. Something had dug it; he was sure of it. But was it a human or some kind of large animal? He still wasn't entirely sure where he was, and so he wasn't sure what kind of large animals were around.

As he trekked out of the oasis to explore around it, he froze.

There, on the ground, were animal tracks. Animal tracks that went in a straight line, from the oasis to the mountains on the other side of the valley from where he had come in. And next to said tracks, he found something that made his heart drop.

Bear scat.

"So, there are bears here," Harry said, half to himself and half to Zoë.

"My Lady did promise thee bears," Zoë replied. "I should not withhold that promise from thee."

Harry swallowed, then frowned. "I didn't think bears lived in the desert," he muttered.

"I shall give thee a hint," Zoë answered. "There is a very rare sort of bear that does live in a single, solitary, desert."

Harry blinked, looked at her, frowned, thought for a few moments, then paled.

"The Gobi bear," he said. "I'm in the Gobi Desert." The Hunter dipped her head once. Harry stopped walking, and instead started scanning his surroundings. Going into that oasis and staying there so long had been stupid with that bear around. If they'd stumbled across each other… he didn't want to think of what that bear would have done to him.

The fact that Zoë was with him suddenly didn't fill him with as much confidence as it used to. That bear could have torn him to pieces before she'd have a chance to react.

He couldn't stay near the oasis. He'd have to make or find some sort of shelter to make camp, a place where he was out of the way of this bear.

He trekked in the opposite direction of the bear tracks, and climbed a bit up the mountain range there. He found a small cave, not very deep, but with enough of an overhang to shelter him. It was nested in between two rock faces, so it had a nice corner for him to sit in. If he could make a fire in front of him, the heat would reflect off the rocks behind and next to him, making it a very cozy spot.

His campsite found, he trekked back down to the valley. The presence of water had allowed vegetation to spring up, and there was plenty of dead wood around for him to use for fuel. He spent the dying hours of the day dragging firewood to his chosen campsite.

That evening, he had a nice fire, a secure campsite with a fire for warmth and to keep that bear away, and a relatively nearby water source. He'd gotten three of the four survival necessities, so he felt reasonably good.

If only he had found something to eat. He was starving. That attempt at magic hadn't done him much good, either.

He slept warm that night, waking up only to throw more wood on the fire. He'd managed to estimate his reserves correctly, and didn't run out.

The next morning, he woke up with the sun rising over the mountains. He gave it a smile and a little wave, but it didn't wink at him. Maybe because he was in Mongolia and not New York, and therefore outside of Apollo's area?

He didn't let it stop him, and got up to have a look around, trying to scrounge up food. Maybe there were insects or small rodents? With the sun still low, small reptiles would be easy to catch, they'd be lethargic until the heat set in. Those were a valid target, too.

Harry pushed over larger rocks but found nothing underneath. After an hour of searching, he had still found nothing.

The young boy pressed on regardless. Finally, he came across some kind of burrow or warren made by some kind of ground squirrel, he guessed. The burrow was underground, but it had multiple exits.

If he could smoke out the residents, he'd have something to eat!

Filling up most of the exits and entrances took some time, before he started a fire over the one remaining entrance, hoping that the smoke of the fire would get drawn through the burrow.

He left it to burn for an hour, before using his camel scapula to dig up the various entrances he had blocked off.

No dice; either the burrow was deserted, or he had missed an entrance somewhere and the resident ground squirrels had managed to escape.

His shoulders sagged. He had wasted hours scouring the desert and trying to smoke out ground squirrels and had absolutely _nothing_ to show for it. His stomach gurgled emptily, reminding him that it could do with some sustenance.

He had exhausted all of his internal energy by now, his body was now tapping into its reserves. Likely, he was already losing weight.

The desert had no edible plants that he had found, and no small animals for him to go after other than that burrow that he'd lost so much time on.

He returned to the camel skeleton. Maybe, with a stroke of luck…

He picked up a large rock and used that to break open the bones of the skeleton.

He had hoped for some bone marrow.

Instead, he found nothing but completely dried-out, empty bones. It was enough to make everyone depressed. He needed to eat _something_.

He looked out over the valley; his eyes drawn once again to the tall grass. It was a risk. A big one. With that bear around, he could get mauled within seconds if he made a mistake and came across one.

He wished he'd been allowed to keep his divine weapons. Or his knife. Anything at all to defend himself with, even if his chances of even pulling a weapon if a bear jumped him were less than optimal. Simply having the weapon would make him feel better.

Harry sighed; he had no choice. He needed food.

Decision made; Harry trekked to the tall grass next to the water hole and started exploring. The grass itself wasn't edible, but he did come across a small patch of plants with waving leaves.

The local Mongolians called it the 'sugar plant', and while the plant itself wasn't edible, its roots were. Using the scapula, he dug out a handful of roots, and cleaned them as best he could.

They tasted of licorice, and the small amount of sugars gave him a minor boost of energy. They also served to suppress his appetite for the moment, so he didn't feel as hungry. Every little bit helped, and he would take what he could get.

Then, he stumbled across a prize, and dug up an abandoned tin can. It was open on one side, and its contents had long since been taken, but the can itself was in good shape.

Under normal circumstances, Harry would have decried the littering. Under the present circumstances, that can made a good cooking pot, something he could use to boil water or make soup, if he ever caught something.

As he explored the tall grass, he made sure to keep making lots of noise; lots of noise would alert the bear that he was there. Hopefully it would allow him to remain safe.

He dug up another sugar root, before coming across a bush that had held little black berries.

Now he knew what that bear had been eating. Berries. And the bear had been eating well, it seemed, as Harry wasn't able to find more than a handful of the tiny fruit. It would be enough for a small meal, he supposed. Glancing at his can, which held two sticks of the sugar root and a small smattering of berries, he sighed again. This wasn't going well. Not at all.

He trekked to the water hole, filled the can with water, then went to his camp to poke up the fire and make himself sugar root and berry tea.

Which tasted wonderful, a bit like licorice and blackcurrant flavors combined. The sun had reached its peak, and he spent the hottest part of the day shaded by his overhang and watching the desert. Now that he had something in his belly, he realized that the desert really did have a beauty of its own to it.

After finishing his tea, he made sure to eat the remainder of the roots and the berries, to make sure he got every bit of calories from them that he could.

The tea, the roots, and the berries had given him energy, and Harry decided to spend a few hours building a bit of a wall to keep out the desert winds. While he had been reasonably warm that night before, the wind was still annoying. Having a wall to break it would help.

By the time the sun was setting, he fell next to his fire, crashing completely. The sugar rush from the sugar plant had made him think he had more energy than he really had, and now he was completely and utterly spent.

He needed food. Real food. Urgently. He barely managed to gather enough firewood to last him through the night, and he fell behind his knee-high wall of rocks and fell asleep.

The next morning, he woke up feeling extremely lethargic. All he wanted was to stay behind the small wall, next to the fire, and not do anything at all. His energy levels were at rock bottom.

And yet, he _had_ to move. Listlessly, he pulled himself up, dragging his feet down the small incline down to the desert floor. Without must care, he looked under rocks for small animals, yet found nothing.

By the time the noon heat set in, he had dragged himself back to his camp, and he fell down flat next to his fire. It felt like he was wasting time.

One thing he _was_ sure of. He wasn't going to quit. He remembered his first ever lesson from Artie, where she had told him that people can survive for three weeks without food. If worst came to worst, he would simply tough it out for a couple more days. He'd been hungry before. It hadn't killed him then and it wouldn't kill him now.

He had water, he had shelter, and he had fire. He could go a few days without food.

Even if he was extremely hungry.

When the sun had crested, he drew a deep breath and descended to the oasis and its tall grass. He needed _something _to eat, and the threat of that bear wasn't going to keep him from it.

By the time he returned to his camp with the setting sun, all he had was a single, solitary, disappointing, piece of sugar root, and half a dozen berries. It was enough for a cup of licorice and blackcurrant tea, but no more than that. His stomach protested its lack of real sustenance, and Harry rode the sugar rush, remembering what happened yesterday.

That sugar rush was artificial and would simply drive him deeper if he tried to capitalize on it.

He went to bed starving. The entire night, he dreamt of food. When he got up in the morning, he was thinking about food. When he dragged himself to the desert plains looking for food, he imagined the feasts that Hestia had cooked for him.

He found a new ground squirrel burrow, this one built into a small bank framing a depression in the landscape, as if at one point, there had been water flowing here. Maybe the depression was only filled when it rained.

He tried his method of smoking out the rodents once more. As he worked, he thought of the times he and Hestia cooked. Food was omnipresent in his mind. He salivated at the thought of the many wonderful dishes that he'd gotten to try thanks to Hestia.

Even if she didn't like him saying it, he still said it.

Best. Goddess. Ever.

He closed off all the entrances of the rodent burrow that he could see and find, except for one. That one entrance is where he started his fire, hoping for better results this time. There was more wind today, and it drive the smoke deeper into the tunnels the rodents had made.

As he waited, he imagined cooking them. Maybe in an underground oven, maybe he'd find some more berries to make some sort of sauce. He'd done that before. Or maybe he'd roast them over an open fire.

He licked his lips. Those rodents were going to taste _so very_ good. All he had to do was wait a little, then dig out the entrances he'd blocked off, and gather his spoils. Even just one rodent would help so much right now, and who knew how many there were in a burrow of that size?

An hour and a half later, his fists hit the ground in pure frustration, tears stinging his eyes. Nothing. Not a single rodent. There was _nothing_ in the entire stupid thing, and now he'd spent so much time trying to catch something, all for nothing.

He hit the ground again. It was just not fair. And again. And again, ignoring the sting in his eyes.

It left him panting, as even that small exertion reflected on his meager energy levels. Wiping his eyes, he drudged back to his camp. No food. Nothing at all. Not even a berry, or a single stupid sugar root. He'd harvested what he could find, that stupid bear had eaten everything else, and now he would have to spend another night starving.

He fell next to his fire and poked it up. The beauty of the desert no longer captivated him. The setting sun no longer felt as warm as it used to. All he could think about was food.

The looked to one side, where Zoë had pitched her Hunter's tent. That tent probably had all the food he could ever eat. For a single moment, he debated jumping at it and raiding its supplies.

The next moment, he felt ashamed of even thinking it. This was a test. Just a test. And it would last only a few more days. He shouldn't break trust like that. He just wasn't looking hard enough, or in the right places. That's all.

The sun set completely, and Harry shuffled closer to the fire. Despite the fire, and the reflected heat, he felt cold. A shiver went through his body. A hot bowl of soup would be so nice right now.

He spread his hands out towards the fire, glad to feel the heat. He closed his eyes and fantasized about a plate of mac and cheese. Hot and gooey mac and cheese, the kind that would stick to your ribs as you ate it.

He licked his lips when he felt his mouth salivating. Withdrawing his hands from the fire, he rubbed them in an effort to spread the warmth they'd collected.

The next moment, he felt something _tug_ at his internal energy, and panicky, he opened his eyes. Right in front of him, between his body and the fire, was a large plate of mac and cheese.

He stared at it for a few seconds, before the edges of his vision darkened.

"How didst thou-" Zoë started to ask, yet he heard no more. The darkness spread from the edges of Harry's vision to its center, and the next moment it took all that he had to sigh to the ground without toppling over. He knew no more.

00000

"Wake up, Harry," a soft voice told him, jolting through his awareness and bringing him around. He blinked his eyes open, only to look into the concerned face of his all-time favorite goddess. He became aware that his head had been ensconced into her soft and warm lap, and at that moment, he wanted nothing else but to stay there for eternity.

"Hi Hestia," he muttered, blinking confusedly. He frowned slightly, then remembered where he was and what he had been doing. He glanced around; they were still in the Gobi. "What happened?" he asked.

Hestia gave him a tight little smile. "You pulled on my power, and I came to investigate. I found you have created a plate of macaroni and cheese, and were asleep from the exertion." She leaned in a bit closer. "I did tell you that there may be unintended consequences from you dragging a large statue through the fire."

Harry nodded. If conjuring food was a side-effect, he was happy with it. Slowly, he sat up, his body protesting. He felt slightly woozy.

He glanced at where the plate of mac and cheese had been. It was gone. "I vanished it," Hestia said, obviously seeing where he was looking. "You haven't eaten in a while so it would have been too heavy for you." She held out a large cup of broth. "Here, drink some broth," she instructed.

Harry nodded, and turned to accept the cup. He suddenly realized that Zoë was behind the two of them, facing the corner of the rocky wall. "What-" he started to ask.

"I am rather upset with Artie's Lieutenant," Hestia informed him. "So, I asked her to stand over there and contemplate her actions."

Harry accepted the offered cup of broth and sipped it. Or rather, he intended to sip it. The moment the food made contact with his lips, it was like a flood gate had opened.

"Slo-" Hestia started to admonish, but before she could finish, Harry was already holding out the empty cup.

"Could I have some more?" he asked, softly. "Please?"

Hestia offered him a smile. "Of course, Harry. Drink slowly this time. You haven't eaten in a while, and your stomach will need time to adjust." The cup refilled itself while the Goddess of the Hearth glanced at Zoë's back. It wasn't a nice glance.

Harry sipped the broth this time, feeling the minute amount of ambrosia in it kick his body into gear. "What happen with Miss Zoë?" he asked, tentatively.

Hestia gave the Hunter another glance, then sighed. "I come to see what happened, and find you deeply asleep, yet half-starved," she explained. "It was most upsetting."

"But My-" Zoë started to say, only to be interrupted.

"Excuse me," Hestia said, stopping Zoë in her tracks. "But have I addressed you in some manner?"

"No, My Lady," Zoë whispered.

"Then I would kindly like to ask you to remain silent," the Goddess of the Hearth said. Despite the kindness of her tone and kindness of her speech, there was a dangerous undercurrent that Harry wasn't accustomed to hearing from her.

"Sorry, My Lady."

Hestia just gave a dip of her head, despite Zoë being unable to see it. "When I agreed to let Artie and her Lieutenant teach you, it was under the provision that they would take good care of you, and ensure your well-being. Finding you half-starved does, in my book, not constitute 'good care'."

Harry swallowed, then bent his head. "I couldn't find any food," he whispered, his cup empty again. "It's my fault, Hestia." Behind them, Zoë twitched, yet remained silent. "This is a survival test, and me not being able to find food means I go hungry," he added.

"Missing a meal or two will do no harm," Hestia replied instead. "Missing days' worth of meals does, however." She reached into an inner pocket of her robes and took out a block of raw ambrosia. With a single motion of her finger, she had cut off a slice, and held it out to Harry. "Here, Harry, eat this. We should go meet Artie and discuss the lessons you have been getting."

Harry silently ate the slice of ambrosia. It didn't so much hit his stomach as it _dissolved_ on the way there, hitting his body right where it was needed.

Despite the food and the ambrosia, he didn't feel any better. He had failed his test, failed to find food, and now Hestia was angry. In one swoop, he'd messed up seriously.

Hestia smiled at him and patted his shoulder. "This is not your fault, Harry," she assured him. "Come, let's go see Artie. I wonder what her excuse will be."

Harry's shoulders drooped. This meant that this was likely the last time he'd get a lesson from Artie or Zoë. He'd miss them terribly.

Hestia stood up, prompting Harry to follow her. "Come along," she told Zoë, who shuffled awkwardly out of the corner she had been standing in. Harry gave her an apologetic look, yet the only reply he got was a tense grimace from his favorite Hunter.

Hestia motioned to the fire, and they all trooped through, emerging straight in Artie's camp. Still on her stride, Hestia walked purposefully to Artie's tent. Harry had to trot to keep up, while Zoë, too, looked like she rushed to keep up.

For a moment, Harry wondered how Hestia, despite being in a nine-year-old body, was able to move that fast.

He didn't have long to contemplate it, as the Goddess of the Home reached Artie's tent, and simply pulled back the flap without scratching at the post for entrance. Harry swallowed and rushed in after her.

"Who-" Artie said, looking up from where she was doing some work. "Aunt Hestia?" she asked, surprised. She glanced at Zoë, then to Harry, and her confusion deepened.

"I am rather upset and disappointed," Hestia said, simply taking a seat on one of the many poofs. Artie frowned, got up from her desk, where she had been working, and took a seat facing her visitor.

Harry didn't know what to do, and awkwardly remaining standing, while Zoë stood near the entrance, looking awkward.

"How so, Aunt Hestia?" Artie asked.

The Goddess of the Hearth frowned. "I found Harry half-starved," she replied. "An accident not long ago has allowed him greater access to my domain. Tonight, I felt him pull heavily on it in order to create some food; when I went to investigate, I found that the small effort required on his part to do so has rendered him asleep. To my consternation, I found him half-starved, and your Hunter did nothing to aid him."

Artie looked uncomfortable. "It is supposed to be a test," she said apologetically.

Hestia's eyes narrowed and her frown deepened. "So, dropping him in the middle of the Gobi Desert with no aid, dressed solely in a pair of shorts, is your idea of a valid test?"

Artie was gaping at Hestia as she spoke. She gaped at Hestia for a few seconds after she finished speaking, too. Then, her gaze turned thunderous. "Zoë, what is the meaning of this!?"

The Hunter flinched, as if she had been physically struck. "I… believed Harry could do with a more stringent test," she answered.

Artie was suddenly on her feet. "And you believe that the Gobi is a good test?" she requested angrily.

"I… misjudged, My Lady," the Hunter whispered.

Artie pinched the bridge of her nose. "We will discuss this later. At length," she stated coldly, before turning back to face Hestia. For a few moments, she seemed to debate what to say. Then, she sighed. "I wholeheartedly apologize, Aunt Hestia."

Before Hestia could reply, the Goddess of the Hunt looked at Harry. "It seems you survived, nonetheless. That is an impressive feat," she told the young boy.

Harry shrugged awkwardly. "I still failed, though, Artie. I couldn't find any food at all, and I was just going to tough it out for the last few days when I passed out creating the plate of mac and cheese." He looked at his feet. "Please don't be mad at Miss Zoë. I was the one who failed the test."

Artie sighed, stalked back to her seat, and sat down. The deer that had been in the tent, but nobody had paid attention to, slid across and put its head in her lap. She scratched its head softly between the antlers, visible calming down.

"Harry, you were supposed to go to the forest of Canada. I promised you a forest filled with bears, which would mean plenty of resources. The Gobi is an inhospitable place that has killed people in mere hours," she told him.

"But if Miss Zoë thinks-" Harry started to say, before being cut off by Artie. He didn't notice how behind him, Zoë flinched again.

"Harry, it isn't the first time that my Lieutenant forgets herself, or forgets who you are. I remember certain exercises that were designed for Hunters, with divine boons on their side."

Harry nodded at that. It _had_ happened before, that was true. "So, I will need to have a long talk with my Lieutenant regarding her duties and her responsibilities," the Goddess of the Hunt went on. "I must make sure this does not happen again."

The young boy just nodded softly. "You won't be too hard on her?" he asked softly. "If I could have found some food, it would have been better," he said, trying to appease Artie and Hestia both. They had to realize that this wasn't really Zoë's fault. He should have found food, that's all. So she changed things, that didn't matter. If he'd found food, none of this would have happened.

Zoë looked ashamed, but Artie ignored her. She shifted over on her seat, freeing some space, then patted the freed-up spot. "Have a seat Harry," she said, gently.

Harry shuffled over, and sat down, right next to his second-favorite goddess. A goddess who, to his surprise, threw one arm around his shoulders.

Before she had a chance to say anything, the deer shifted, so its head was now in Harry's lap. The boy gave the magnificent animal a small grin and started petting it.

"Seems someone has taken a liking to you," Artie said with an amused smile. She turned to Harry, and growing serious, she said, "Harry, remember what I said. The Gobi is inhospitable. It has killed fully grown adults in hours. Most die within a couple of days due to lack of water. It takes special skills and special knowledge to make a living there, none of which you have been trained in. You are only nine years old. The very fact that you were able to live there for five days is incredible."

Harry managed a small smile at hearing her praise him. "I was able to find an oasis on the second day, it had water, and there were dead trees I could use for a fire. The mountains weren't too far, and I found this sheltered spot with a bit of an overhang I could use as a campsite. If that stupid bear hadn't eaten all the food, it would have been great."

"Bear?" Artie asked, blinking. "You ran into a place with a Gobi bear?"

Harry gave a tight little smile. "Miss Zoë said you promised bears, so..."

The Goddess of the Hunt speared her Lieutenant with another glare. "I see," she replied, tightly. She drew a deep breath, then let it out. "So, you found shelter, water, and fire, and were determined to 'tough it out' without food?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "All I could find were some sugar plants, and a couple of handfuls of berries. Oh, and that book you gave me for my birthday, the one with the plants I'd never heard of, had a plant you could squeeze drinkable liquid from and that one kept me going on the first day!"

Artie gave a mirthless smile. "I'm glad that book came in helpful, Harry," she said. "And I think that you passed this test. Survival is about surviving. You survived." She gave another harsh glance at Zoë, who was looking at her toes now. She no longer looked like the millennia-old confident Lieutenant of Artemis' Hunters. Instead, she looked like a scolded 17-year-old girl waiting for her punishment.

"Harry, one more thing," Artie said, resuming on a kinder, gentler tone. "When you came to me for lessons, do you remember what you told me? You said you wanted to know how to survive should you ever be on your own again. Now, do you think you would ever, on your own, enter a desert? Or would you stick to places where you knew you would find food?"

"I'd stick to places where I can find food," Harry replied, honestly.

Artie nodded. "And that is where I have been focusing on, and where I told my Lieutenant to focus on. Unfortunately, a few thousand years of training Hunters has left her bereft of experience of teaching a mortal rather than a Hunter."

Harry sighed, then reached for her free hand with both of his. "Please don't be too hard on Miss Zoë," he softly asked. "Even if she did make a mistake in taking me to the Gobi. If that bear hadn't been there, I would have found food and all that."

Artie sighed. "I will have a stern talk with my Lieutenant," she replied. "And only you, Harry, would have the misfortune of running across one of the most critically endangered species on Earth. There are maybe 50 Gobi bears left on the planet, and you _had_ to find yourself in the path of one."

Harry grimaced, remembering how his mother had told him his luck would balance on itself.

"We should go. Harry needs a shower, some more food, and a good rest," Hestia said, standing up. "I am glad to see that my trust in you was not misplaced, Artie."

"I can see how bad this would look," Artie replied. "I apologize again for the actions taken by my Lieutenant, Aunt Hestia, Harry."

Hestia gave a tiny smile. "You're forgiven, Artie." she turned, glanced at Zoë, who was still looking down, then held out her hand to Harry. "Shall we go?" she asked him.

Harry nodded softly, then gave his second-favorite goddess a big hug, patted the deer to let him up, and went to grab Hestia's hand.

Before he got there, he stopped in front of Zoë. "Everyone makes mistakes, Miss Zoë," he told her. "I'm not mad at you. I just wish I could have found food, then this wouldn't have happened."

Zoë looked up, shame still on her face. "Nay," she said. "'T was my mistake to make. This is not thy fault. Thou acted admirably. I did not anticipate that bear eating everything, either. As thy test proctor, 't was my duty to ensure a level testing field. That I failed is in no way thy fault."

Harry just nodded and held out one hand. He didn't think his normal offer of a hug would be appreciated right now. Even if he desperately wanted to give her one, because right now it looked like she could use one.

She grasped it. "Should I ever be trusted again, 't would be my privilege to work with thee again," Zoë said. "I thank thee for thy kind of words of support. I do not deserve them."

Harry grimaced. "You're awesome, and you're my friend, so yes, you do," he answered firmly. "Good luck."

Zoë gave him a tight nod, and he finally took Hestia's hand. "Ready," he told her. The Goddess of the Home gave him a smile, and her face looked like she couldn't decide whether to be proud or exasperated. In the end, she looked like both, before guiding Harry out of the tent and back to Helios' Temple. It was time for that shower, some food, and a long rest.


	22. Chapter 22

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 22**

**AN: Literally two days after my last update, ****before the entire Covid crisis ****even ****broke loose, ****my employer went through a drastic restructuring.**** Getting fired sucks. Getting fired after ten years at the same company sucks worse. Getting fired, after ten years, and knowing that a dozen other colleagues are getting fired too… is **_**horrific**_**. **

Harry approached Athena's temple at a normal pace, taking the time to look around and just smile at being back. There was nothing like a week of near-starvation in the Gobi Desert to make someone realize the importance of the little things, to simply be grateful for what one had.

He checked the time. He'd hurried a bit, and so he stopped right outside the temple that was his destination and waited for a minute or two. He knew Athena was a stickler for minutiae, and she would comment if he were early.

Precisely on time, he pushed the doors to Athena's temple open, announcing himself as he did so.

"Good morning, Miss Athena. It's Harry," he said as he let the massive door close behind him.

From one moment to the next, the Goddess of Wisdom, in her full three-meter-tall godly form, appeared before him.

For a few long seconds, she studied him with a deepening frown on her forehead. "You are recovering from mild starvation," she announced. "Possibly because you have been in a desert, most likely the Gobi Desert, for an extended period of time." The massive goddess leaned in, studying him closer.

"Yes," she repeated. "The Gobi Desert, no doubt about it. Please explain."

Harry offered a shaky smile, and explained how his survival test had indeed been in the Gobi, and how he'd been able to find water, fire, and shelter, but had failed at finding food. He also told her how he'd been determined to tough it out, considering people could survive for long periods of time without food.

Athena dipped her head once. "While the human body is indeed capable of surviving without food, the impact this has on your body is not acceptable. I will draft a recovery schedule as well as a food plan to bring you back into shape. I will also have a chat with Artemis. I have put too much time and effort into crafting your body to let it go to waste."

Harry swallowed again. It was so like Athena to only care about the wasted effort on her part instead of caring about his well-being.

The Goddess of Wisdom held out two scrolls. "The first is your training schedule. I expect you to keep to it. The second is your nutritional plan, detailing the nutritional requirements to bring you back into shape. Hand it to Aunt Hestia, she will be able to determine what meals will be most suited for you."

Harry grinned; he loved parchment scrolls. He unrolled the nutritional plan first, and reading the requirements caused various meals to pop into his head that would suit fine. Already, he was modifying recipes to include ambrosia. While the godly food could work miracles on healing injuries or illness, this was systemic damage and so would be of less help.

Less help was still better than no help at all, however. Harry nodded to the goddess in front of him. "No need, Miss Athena, I've got it," he said.

Athena looked at him skeptically. "I do not recall you learning about nutrition," she said. "Explain your confidence."

Harry smiled faintly. "When I brought the _Athena Parthenos_ to camp, I did so by bringing it through the fire. But it turned out that the statue was too big to move through the fire, so Hestia had to boost my boon with her own energy in order to get it through and not kill me."

Athena nodded. "The personnel-carrier state of Fire Travel wouldn't allow for large objects, and since you were already in motion it wasn't possible for Aunt Hestia to open a large conduit. Supplying additional energy to the in-progress state would have been the best option," she stated calmly, as if she weren't discussing him nearly dying.

"Hestia said it may have unintended consequences," Harry explained further.

Athena nodded again, interrupting him. "The sudden influx of divine energy could have an impact on your current state," she said. "Please continue."

The young boy nodded. "I found out on my survival test that I can conjure food now. And when I looked at your list, the various dishes that would most closely match the nutritional requirements you listed just popped into my head."

Athena rubbed her chin as she thought. "Interesting effect," she finally said. "We shall have to investigate. We shall do so later. First, we must get your body back into shape. As you are still recovering from the malnutrition, we shall only have a light work-out, followed by some book learning to make sure your mind does not get lazy."

"Yes, Miss Athena," Harry said. Athena just gave him a curt nod, turned, and walked away. Harry trotted after her, doing his best to keep up with her godly strides.

0000

Harry winced slightly when he left Athena's temple. Her 'light workout' had involved a plethora of gym equipment, and now his muscles felt tight. Following said session up with some book-learning had given him just enough sit-down time to feel his muscles tighten up.

He took the time to cross the market and inspect the goods on sale. The walk would do him good, loosen up his muscles again.

Suddenly, a huge hand dropped on his right shoulder. "Hiya, Brat!"

Harry tightened. Of all the gods he could have run into, it had to be Ares.

"Hi, Mister Ares," Harry greeted politely. "Long time no see."

Ares' customary bloodthirsty grin dropped somewhat. "Piece of advice, Brat. Don't make Aunt Hestia angry. You won't like her when she's angry. Had to lay low for a while, you know how it goes."

Harry frowned. "Hestia's the kindest, sweetest goddess ever," he protested. "She doesn't get angry."

"Often," Ares corrected. "She doesn't get angry _often_. Again, don't make her angry, Brat. Anyway, heard some interesting rumors. Something about a giant statue and a scuffle with a certain eight-legged weaver."

"Arachne was just misunderstood, and Miss Athena was happy to have her statue back," Harry said.

The God of War burst out laughing. "Only you could downplay beating a two thousand year old enemy who plagued and killed Athena's brats for sport and call her 'misunderstood', Brat!" Ares chortled. "Anyway, it's been a while so I thought I'd come find ya and go a few rounds."

Harry grimaced. "I've… ah… just had a bit of issue, Mister Ares. I got dropped in the Gobi Desert and ended up without food for a while."

"I think I hear whining," Ares said, his bloodthirsty grin widening.

"No whining!" Harry protested hurriedly, swallowing deeply. Ares was still scary without even trying. "Miss Athena was put out and gave me a recovery schedule," he added. "So I may not be in the best shape..."

Ares seemed to study the boy for the first time. "You do look scrawnier than usual," he said. "A good fight will put some meat back on your bones! Come along, Brat!"

"Yes, Mister Ares," Harry sighed. He knew it wouldn't be that easy to get out of this. Worst of all, he'd actually missed the god somewhat. Sometimes, Ares was hilarious. And Harry had to admit, he did learn a lot from the God of War when it came to brawling. And ignoring pain of all kinds.

"It's not another tentacle demon, is it?" he asked, tentatively, when he followed.

Ares burst out laughing again. "You're still calling the Hydra that?" he chortled. "That name's going to stick if you keep it up!"

Harry grimaced.

"No, not another Hydra, Brat," Ares said. "Just a brawl or two or three. Dozen. Nothing works better than a good fight to get the blood pumping again. Come alone, Brat!" he set a jog, and Harry had to push to keep up.

"I'm not in the best shape," Harry muttered, half to himself and half to Ares, as he huffed deeply to keep up. Athena was right, the five day fast had really screwed over his physical condition.

"I hear more whining!" Ares declared.

Harry shivered. "Not whining!" he said back, hoping that it would deter the crazy god.

The God of War just grinned, stopped, and grabbed Harry by the back of his neck. The next moment, they stepped through into a wide open field that was definitely nowhere on Mount Olympus.

"Let's get going, Brat," the battle-happy god crowed, raising his fists. The next moment, a flurry of blows was aimed Harry's way which the nine-year-old barely managed to dodge.

"Huh, you slowed down," Ares declared. "Come on, brat. Take it up a notch!"

"Eep!" Harry managed to utter, right before Ares' huge fist landed itself in his stomach.

"Tisk, tisk," Ares said, over-the-top disappointed. "You're really out of it, aren't you?"

Harry labored to draw in a deep breath, while sitting on his knees and his arms wrapped around his tender midsection. He was just glad he hadn't thrown up. That would be embarrassing. And Ares would make fun of him.

The young boy just managed to drag himself to his feet, despite still gasping for breath.

Ares' grin widened. "_There_ is the brat that doesn't give up!" the god shouted, jumping forward with one fist raised.

Harry managed to emerge his shield and hide behind it. The deep _gong_ sound of Ares' fist striking the godly item made him happy that he did. The godly shield managed to dissipate most of the strike into sound, diverting the rest around the boy. The impact he felt on his arm was barely more than a push.

"Cheater," Ares said, on a level tone.

"Only cheating if the other guy does it," Harry breathed, the pain in his midsection finally subsiding.

Ares grinned. "Glad you didn't forget the important lessons!" Ares screamed again, materializing a sword.

"Eep!" Harry managed again, emerging his bracers just in time for Ares' divine weapon to clash against his hurriedly-raised Shield of Athena. He angled the shield to deflect the strike to one side, which usually would have left him wide open. This time, however, he was able to strike his bracers together, dumping all their stored energy into a blast wave that took Ares and flung him away.

The God of War, surprised, regained his senses impressively quick. He rolled in mid-air, aimed his feet, and planted them firmly on the ground as he landed. He looked, for all intents and purposes, as if he'd completely meant to do that.

Harry pouted at the lack of results, and barely managed to get the shield up again to block the next strike of Ares' sword. And the next. And the next. Harry curled in on himself, as if hiding his entire body behind the shield, hoping to weather the onslaught.

After Athena's training, and the mild starvation of the week before, he was incredibly weak and his energy levels were extremely low. Hiding behind his shield was the only thing he could do, more or less.

Ares disengaged. "That's disappointing, Brat. Aren't you going to fight back?" He added some clucking noises. "You chicken?" He added some more chicken noises.

Harry lifted his head from behind his shield, ready to duck back down should the War God take advantage of his trust. "I'm still recovering, Mister Ares," he said. "This is about the best I can do until I find an opening for a cheap shot."

Ares boomed another laugh. "Cheap shot, eh?" he asked, continuing his laughter. "At least you didn't give up," he said, finally calming down, and staring at Harry for a bit. "Fine. You're in no shape for a fight. Let's have some fun instead."

He took the key fob from his pocket and clicked it. Five seconds later, Harry dismissed his shield and bracers, and he was getting a bad feeling about things when the four fiery horses pulling Ares' chariot descended from the sky.

"Again?" the God of War wondered, clicking the fob again. The chariot turned into the red convertible. "Get in, Brat."

Harry nodded nervously, and got in the car after swallowing deeply. The last time Ares had taken him somewhere like this, they'd ended up at some bar fight.

Ares raced off, Harry pretending he wasn't afraid while simultaneously clenching the armrest in a death-grip. He remained quiet, not wanting to upset the god.

It took ten minutes, before Ares pulled into a parking lot. The god jumped out and gave Harry the 'come with' arm-wave as he strode to the entrance of the long, flat building.

Two minutes later, they were standing inside the building, without having seen a soul, facing paper targets in the shape of human bodies. "Let's give you some life lessons," Ares said, grinning widely.

Harry swallowed again.

"This here, is a gun," Ares said, pulling a rifle off a rack and tossing it to the demigod. Harry yelped, demigod reflexes being the only thing allowing him to catch the heavy weapon.

"This thing is almost as big as I am!" the boy complained, gingerly cradling the rifle as if it were a baby, afraid of having it go off and kill somebody.

"It's an AK-47, nine out of ten child soldiers will highly recommend it," Ares said, his grin well beyond 'bloodthirsty' and into full-blown 'blood fury'.

Harry wasn't amused and just stared at the god. Finally, Ares sighed, taking the weapon out of the boy's arms and putting it back on the weapons rack. "Fine. You're no fun," he grouched, taking a sidearm instead.

Somehow, Harry had the impression that Ares had just been kidding and had never intended for Harry to use that rifle.

"Since Aunt Hestia would _kill_ me if I didn't give you some safety lessons first, this is how you properly treat a gun," Ares said, holding up the pistol he'd selected.

"This is a Browning Buck Mark, .22 caliber handgun. It's lightweight, has low recoil, and has a small handle for those delicate little baby hands of yours," the God of War teased. Harry pulled a face, making his big teacher laugh. "Now, in most cases, you shoot someone with this, you're just going to hurt them. It'll make them stop, but in most cases it won't kill them."

Harry felt relieved at hearing that.

The god then pointed to the end of the barrel. "Now. Safety lessons, or Aunt Hestia will be angry with me again." The god let out a shudder, then firmed up and pointed. "That's the barrel. The bullet comes out there." Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You never, _ever_ point this bit at someone _unless_ you intend to kill them. Bloodshed is always good in my book, but Aunt Hestia would _kill_ me if you killed the wrong person with one of these."

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous, suddenly recalling Ares saying 'won't kill in most cases'. "Good," Ares went on. "This part here, is the trigger. Your finger does not touch this part _unless_ you're pointing the barrel at something you want dead. _Ever_. Got that, Brat?"

Harry nodded obediently once more. Never touch the trigger unless you're aiming at a target, never point the barrel at anything you didn't want to kill. He got it.

"Good. Last safety lesson. _This_ is the safety. The safety stays on at all times. You only take the safety _off_ when you're pointing the gun at something you want to kill. Got that?"

Harry swallowed and nodded again. "Good," Ares said, negligently tossing the gun to the boy, who squeaked at the once more surprising action, once more managing to catch a tossed weapon, and ended up holding it between two fingers by the handle.

"It isn't gonna kill you," Ares snorted. "Grab the handle. Keep your finger outside the trigger guard."

Harry slowly shifted the weapon so he was holding it more or less correctly, his fingers as far away from the trigger as he could.

Ares sighed. "Firm hold, brat."

Harry's grip tightened.

"Fine," the God of War muttered. "Now, to shoot." He grabbed Harry and positioned him, facing one of the paper targets, which was about three or four meters away. "Spread your feet. You need to be stable. This isn't the movies, recoil's a thing, even with a tiny little twenty-two, so hold it firmly. Good. Lower your grip a bit. That slide at the top will come back and grab the next bullet when you fire, you want your hand to be away from that bit while you shoot."

Harry shifted his grip. "Good," Ares continued. "Two hands." He sighed. "No, like _this_," he said, adjusting the boy's grip. "That's called the Weaver stance. Now, remember what I told you, and shoot at the targets."

Harry swallowed, nodded nervously, and aimed down the sights at the target in front of him.

"Oh, wait," Ares said, interrupting him. Suddenly, Harry found himself wearing a set of over-ear headphones that clamped on his head really firmly and a set of safety goggles. Harry balefully looked at his teacher, who said something.

The boy lifted one cup off his ear. "Sorry, what was that, Mister Ares?" he asked.

"Indoors, those things are loud, so you need to wear crap like that," Ares said. "Aunt Hestia would be upset if I brought you back with tinnitus from shooting."

The boy just nodded, accepting the explanation, and dropped the cup back over his ear. He aimed again, something he was used to doing from his practice aiming a bow.

Now that he was aiming at the target, he slowly shifted his finger to the trigger. He pulled. The trigger did not budge.

Oh. Right. Safety. He moved the safety lever, adjusted his grip, pointed the gun downrange again, and aimed at the heart of the target. He brought his finger to the trigger, and squeezed.

The noise was loud, even with the headphones, making him jump and the gun jerk in his hands.

"Good!" Ares crowed with a mad grin, somehow audible over the headphones now. "You shot him in the neck, so a good chance he's gonna die even with that small bullet! Nice shot for your first time, Brat!"

"Eep," Harry managed, the very idea of shooting someone in the throat causing a flashback to when he killed the man trying to kidnap Annabeth. He'd stabbed that man in the throat. He imagined shooting someone there would be more or less the same.

He felt bile rise, and swallowed.

Ares laughed. "You look sick, Brat," he chortled, obviously amused at the demigod's distress.

Harry swallowed the rising bile again. "Just remembering that guy I stabbed in the throat," he said.

The God of War immediately turned sober, and nodded. "Yeah, that can happen. It was him or you, Kid. Just remember that he would have done worse to you and Athena's brat."

The young boy nodded shakily. He _knew_ that. Sometimes it just jumped up, that's all.

Ares' coal-shovel-sized hand landed on the boy's shoulder, which was about as supportive as the God of War ever got. "Have a few more shots, Kid. Trust me, nothing makes you feel better than shooting something up. Well – other than _beating_ something up, but you're hardly in a form to do that."

Harry just nodded. Anything to stop thinking about that man. He aimed again, adjusted his stance, made sure the safety was off, then fired.

This time, he was ready for it and didn't jump. He tried to keep the gun stable, but the jerk of the small caliber round was still substantial for a nine-year-old boy who had just spent close to a week starving in a desert. The weapon jerked as it fired, and the bullet hit right of the target.

"You missed," Ares said, disappointingly. He clicked his fingers, and two more magazines appeared. "Keep shooting, Kid," he told the demigod. "You'll get the hang of it soon."

Harry reset his stance and fired again. And again. And again. Until the weapon in his hands made a strange clicking noise and stayed open. Frowning, the boy turned it to look at it.

"**BANG!**" Ares yelled, startling a noise out of the boy while making him jump and almost drop the gun. "I told you to never point that thing at something unless you want to kill it, didn't I, Brat!?" the God of War demanded of Harry, who was able to hear the angry god perfectly despite still wearing the headphones.

The young boy nodded nervously.

"Then _why_, for the sake of Tartarus, were you pointing it _at me?_"

Harry swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly bad. Dropping his shoulders, he stared at the ground. "Sorry, Mister Ares."

"Bah, that pop-gun isn't going to kill me anyways, but _you need to be careful_, Brat. You kill somebody, and Aunt Hestia will kill me. Now, this is how you release the empty magazine, and this is how you reload," he went on as if nothing had happened.

Harry was glad that, for all his faults, Ares was a pretty decent teacher for things like these.

0000

The young demigod stumbled out of the fire and into Helios' temple, his wrists and arms hurting. Scratch the tightness in his muscles from Athena's workout; Ares' firing practice hurt his arms and hands much worse. Especially as the maniacal god insisted on him emptying magazine after magazine.

He sunk down at the table in the kitchen, and literally didn't have the energy left to cook. Drawing a breath, he closed his eyes, focused on a plate of Mac'n'Cheese, and brought his hands together.

A plate of the desired dish appeared before him; he could feel this special ability take a little bit of his reserves to tap into Hestia's larger power and conjure up the food. If only he had known about this ability earlier in his survival test, he would have been able to conjure food while he was still in good shape. Then he wouldn't have passed out, then Hestia wouldn't have been angry at Zoë.

Harry ate mechanically, despite having craved the comfort food since he had gotten home. The idea of Hestia being angry at Artie and Zoë upset him, and he desperately wanted some way to fix it.

He deftly ignored Ares' continued statements about Hestia being scary when she was angry. While he respected Ares, and sometimes even liked him, Harry was also aware that Ares had dumped him in front of a monster and told him to fight for his life. Ares deserved Hestia being mad at him, in Harry's opinion.

Before, he'd practically begged Hestia not to be mad at Hephaestus, and she'd complied, but somehow it felt different this time. Hestia had seemed more upset this time, especially after putting Zoë in a corner of his improvised shelter like a naughty child. He didn't think simply asking Hestia to forgive Artie and Zoë would work this time, and he didn't want to push too hard and risk having her get mad at _him_, too.

In the living area, the hearth flashed, pinging against his awareness. To Harry, it felt something of a cross between an audible _ping_ and a visual _flash_, and he suddenly understood what Marduk had tried to explain about describing a sensation from a sense that wasn't known to humans and had no words describing it.

"Hello, Harry," Hestia said, entering the kitchen and pulling him from his rumination on the correct way to describe his new sensitivity to Fire Travel. She was smiling gently, and Harry preferred her this way.

"Hi Hestia!" the tired demigod greeted, offering his favorite goddess an exhausted smile. He pushed himself to his legs and gave her a hug; luxuriating in the sensation of _heat_ and _home_ and eased the fatigue of his muscles.

Said goddess frowned slightly. "You seem very tired," she finally said as they broke the hug and Harry sunk down on his chair. "I thought you only had lessons with Athena this morning?"

Harry nodded, his smile wider now that he'd gotten a hug from her. He always felt better after a hug from Hestia. "Mister Ares grabbed me," he explained. "When he found out I wasn't much good in a fight, he took me somewhere and taught me to shoot a gun."

Hestia's frown deepened. "Did he now?" she asked, softly.

The young boy nodded. "He taught me a lot of safety rules, too. He said you'd ki… er… you'd be very upset with him if he didn't."

The Goddess of Home and Hearth offered a tiny smile. "Well, he's probably right about that. I'm glad that he's learning to be more responsible. Even if it is after I had to have a chat with him. I'm proud he's doing his best to improve."

Harry kept quiet, once more trying not to think about Ares' sudden fear of Hestia.

"I actually came over because I felt you pulling on my domain to conjure some food," the kind goddess said, changing the subject entirely. "I received a note from Athena asking me to make sure you follow the balanced meal plan she had worked out for you. Instead, I find you eating macaroni and cheese."

Harry tried a tentative smile. "I've wanted some ever since I conjured some during my survival test."

Hestia looked displeased again at the reminder, looking away as she recalled recent events. "As long as it it is just one meal, I don't see the harm," she said, softly, looking back at him and returning to the here and now.

Harry took another bite, but his heart wasn't in it. "About what happened–" he started to say, only to stop when Hestia raised a hand.

"I'm glad you're back safely," she said. "That's all that needs to be said."

"Oh," Harry muttered, looking down.

Hestia sighed softly. "But I see you still have something on your mind," she continued with a soft smile. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

Harry looked up at her, suddenly hesitating. Gathering his courage, he pushed on. "Are you really mad at Artie and Miss Zoë?"

Hestia remained silent for a few moments, thinking her answer through. "Mad? In a way, yes," she finally confirmed. "Though, I'm more disappointed and upset than angry. When I let you go with Artie and her Lieutenant, it was understood that no harm was to come to you."

Harry hesitated again for a few moments, not wanting to directly contradict the goddess that had done so much for him. He didn't want to push too hard and risk upsetting her, or angering her, and making him lose what he'd found or gained since meeting her. At the same time, he didn't want to abandon Artie or Zoë, either. He considered them _friends,_ and he didn't want to be one of those people who abandoned their friends when things got tough.

"But… no harm came to me," he finally said. "I've been hungry before, I mean. And if I hadn't somehow discovered that strange ability to conjure food and passed out, nothing else would have happened. It was just a few more days."

"Starvation is not harmless," Hestia stated with conviction.

Harry nodded. "I know, Hestia," he said, still softly, still afraid of upsetting her. "But it's not permanent, I mean."

She could see how upset Harry was, just as she could see that he was trying not to upset her. Feeling for the young boy, she drew a breath to calm herself down. She didn't want to run the risk of shutting him down too harshly. "You shouldn't have been in that position in the first place," the goddess continued, putting a lid on her temper. The last thing she wanted was to get angry and scare him.

Harry wanted to reply, opened his mouth, then reconsidered and closed it again. Shaking his head, as if saying to himself 'it's not important', he looked at the half-eaten plate of macaroni and cheese.

"What were you going to say?" Hestia asked, in a friendly tone. She wanted him comfortable with her again, and she wanted him to speak him mind.

"Miss Zoë was right, though," Harry muttered under his breath, as if he were speaking to himself rather than her. Fortunately – or unfortunately – she had the ears of a goddess, and was therefore able to understand him perfectly fine.

"Oh?" Hestia asked, encouraging him, despite her personal misgivings.

Harry nodded, and resumed speaking out loud. "I mean, I would have been able to survive in that desert without an issue. I had shelter, I had water, and I had fire. If I hadn't had the bad luck of having one of the rarest bears on the planet eat all the food first, I would have been fine. It's not Miss Zoë's fault that stupid bear was there."

"And yet, you were to go to a forest in Canada," Hestia stated.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know what Artie told Miss Zoë," he said. "But Miss Zoë usually has a lot of freedom in how she trains Hunters. And she only trains Hunters, and has been doing that for 2000 years or so, so maybe she forgot again that I'm not a Hunter."

"Again?" Hestia asked.

Harry nodded. "She forgets sometimes, during training and stuff. Artie had to remind her. Miss Zoë was so embarrassed about that. Maybe it happened again."

Hestia sighed. "I am still not happy," she stated, levelly.

"Oh," Harry whispered, looking down at his half-eaten plate of food.

"However," the Goddess of the Home went on, "I will have a chat with Artie and her Lieutenant, and see what they have to say regarding this."

"Thanks, Hestia," Harry said, breathing a huge sigh of relief.

She smiled and shook her head. "You're awfully dedicated to forgiving Artie and her Lieutenant, though," she added with a bit of a teasing lilt to her voice.

Harry, completely missing the tone, nodded seriously. "I like Artie and Miss Zoë. They're both awesome, and I learn so much from them. They're my friends. Even if they probably don't think the same of me, me being a boy and all. But it doesn't mean I don't like them," he explained.

"Oooh?" Hestia asked, drawing out the syllable. "Does someone have a crush?"

The young boy exploded in a spectacular blush, the innuendo this time hitting right on the mark. Unable to even meet her eyes, he looked down at his plate. "Don't say that, Hestia, they'd be _really_ upset!" he pleaded.

Hestia laughed softly. "It's not a bad thing, Harry. Lots of boys your age have a crush on their teachers."

Harry pouted silently. "They're just good friends, that's all," he muttered.

"Of _course _they are," Hestia said with another laugh. Harry's blush didn't abate as he continued to stare at the, by now, cold mac'n'cheese.

"Pervert," he accused her.

Hestia laughed loudly. "I don't believe I have ever been accused of that," she answered, still laughing. "And seriously, you wouldn't be the first to develop a crush on my niece. _Or_ her Lieutenant. It's how you act that matters, and so far I haven't heard either of them complain about your behavior."

Harry fell silent, silently praying for the conversation to go away.

Hestia giggled. "Praying to me to make the conversation go away is slightly redundant, Harry," she joked.

The young boy's shoulders drooped and he wanted to hide under the table until the world went away. He just couldn't win right now. He moved the plate aside, he wasn't going to eat it now anyway, and thunked his head against the table.

Hestia just laughed softly.

Knocks came from the front door, causing Harry to lift his head and frown. He wasn't expecting any visitors right now. Hestia had stopped laughing, but was still smiling, as if remembering the conversation right now and still enjoying it immensely.

With a small groan, the young boy got off his chair and went to answer the doors of the temple.

Pulling the door open, he was surprised to see Artie and Zoë.

Zoë looked apprehensive, but Artie was grinning widely. "I heard your prayer and thought that something funny was going on," the Goddess of the Hunt said with a small laugh.

"I was merely teasing Harry," Hestia said from behind, obviously having followed him as he went to open the door.

"Aunt Hestia," Artie greeted, calmly. "I thought it could be you."

"Please, come in," Harry said, politely, and stepping aside to let his visitors in. As soon as the door closed, he hugged his second-favorite goddess. "Artie! Hestia's being mean!"

"There, there," Artie said, patting his back. Seeing the amusement on her aunt's face, she added, "What did she do?"

"She's saying things!" Harry said, stepping back. "Bad things!"

Hestia laughed again. "I was just teasing him about his little crush," the goddess explained.

Artie gave Harry a _look_, but then shrugged. "He has been behaving honorably," she proclaimed, as if considering the matter closed.

While the two goddesses talked, Harry had turned to Zoë. "Hi Miss Zoë," he said, offering her a smile. She smiled back, although her heart did not seem in it. "Hug?" he offered her. Hugs always made _him_ feel better, and he wanted to cheer her up.

The Hunter looked thinly amused, then held out her hand. "Handshake," she answered, although her usual spirit was lacking. Harry shook her hand while offering her a supportive look.

"Since I thought I could find you here," Artie was saying, "I decided to pop by." She glanced at Zoë, and motioned to her. "This one has something to say to you."

Harry felt bad for Zoë, as the Hunter in question seemed to shrink in on herself. For the first time, he realized the limitations of Artie's brand of immortality; it merely halted aging.

Zoë looked, for the first time since he had met her, not like a 2000-year-old immortal warrior of the Goddess Artemis, but rather like the 17-year-old girl she had been for nigh on two millennia.

Suddenly he understood the problem inherent with Artie's Hunters, as while they did not age, they were also prevented from _growing up,_ and despite accumulating knowledge and experiences, they were forever stuck with a teenager's mindset.

"Lady Hestia," Zoë said, looking away, then forcing herself to look at the Goddess of the Home and the Hearth. "I humbly apologize for my lapse in judgment and lack of care that I displayed." She swallowed deeply. "I humbly submit myself to thy justice, in an effort to," she swallowed again, "to one day regain thy trust."

Harry looked aghast at Zoë humbling herself, then shot a look at Hestia when she didn't immediately reply.

"What happened, Zoë?" Hestia finally asked. "From the tales Harry told, it seemed that you weren't opposed to teaching Harry, and had gained some measure of appreciating for him."

"I do, My Lady!" Zoë protested loudly. "He was… is… a fine student. Attentive, appreciative, hard-working."

Harry smiled widely at hearing that. "Then what happened?" Hestia asked again.

Zoë looked away for a moment, before once more forcing herself to face up to Hestia. "Lady Artemis initially explained Harry's training schedule to me when she asked me to take over," the Hunter explained. "As Harry progressed, Lady Artemis left the training and testing in my hands."

Hestia nodded softly, then shot a look at Artie. "For two thousand years, my Lieutenant has trained Hunters," the Goddess of the Hunt said.

Hestia accepted that explanation, then looked back at Zoë, prompting her to continue. "As it became time for Harry's latest test, I remember Lady Artemis' suggestion of a forest filled with bears. As I believed Harry to be well advanced beyond that, I exercised my initiative to… update… the test."

Artie sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's why she became my Lieutenant in the first place, Aunt Hestia," she explained before said goddess could reply. "Zoë shows initiative to ensure the best results possible. Unfortunately, this time, she has overstepped."

Zoë seemed to shrink and Harry felt worse for her. He desperately wanted to weigh in, but what more could he say?

"And Harry has said that you were right in your assessment, and that if it hadn't been for one of the rarest bears in existence, he would have been fine," Hestia said, shooting him a glance before returning to look at Zoë.

The Hunter glanced at the boy as well, and offered him a grateful little smile.

"Harry is dear to me," Hestia finally said, breaking the silence that had descended. "Having him in pain, or hurt, upsets me greatly."

Zoë swallowed visibly. "However," the Goddess of the Home went on, "it doesn't appear you had any malicious intent, and were simply focused on ensuring a proper test of Harry's skills. Indeed, the very fact that he survived is a testament to his skills. And to your skills as a teacher."

"Thank you, Lady Hestia," Zoë offered.

"I'm also aware you remained with him, and that you would have intervened had something drastic happen," Hestia continued, a statement that Zoë nodded to confirm.

"Please ensure something like this never happens again, and we will talk no more of this," the Goddess of the Home stated.

Zoë seemed to breathe out from the tips of her toes. "Thank you, Lady Hestia."

The Goddess of the Hearth patted the Hunter's shoulder. "Please be more careful in the future. Harry is still a young boy, and while he claims to be able to handle it, he doesn't always know his own limits."

Zoë nodded seriously. "I shall see to it, My Lady."

"Good. Then you and I shouldn't spend any more time on this," Hestia said with a smile, before turning to Artie. "Perhaps there is something _you_ wish to say as well?" she asked the Goddess of the Hunt softly.

Artie looked surprised and confounded for a moment. "Aunt Hestia?"

"I noticed how you put all the blame on this poor child," Hestia said with a faint motion to Zoë. The Hunter in question looked like she couldn't decide between surprise or offense at the statement.

"But Aunt Hestia," Artie started to protest.

"Perhaps a bit more oversight and clearer instructions could have prevented this," Hestia continued, still with that faint smile of hers.

Zoë looked like she was completely lost and adrift.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, slipping closer to her while the two goddesses talked things out.

The Hunter hesitated for a few moments, obviously debating whether to answer him or not. "I am… unsure," Zoë finally admitted, looking down at him. "These last days have been… difficult. I am pleased that Lady Hestia no longer bears me ill will, however..." she continued.

Harry nodded. "I know how you feel," he answered. "I disappointed Hestia when I brought that statue back. I never want to disappoint her again. But then again, I wanted to speak up for you and Artie, too, so it was kinda hard to do without making Hestia upset at me."

Zoë nodded thoughtfully. "And I am grateful thou spoke up," she stated softly, so as to not interrupt the two goddesses, where Artie was still trying to wriggle her way out of responsibility. "I do not know if Lady Hestia would have been so forgiving if it hadn't been for thee leveling the path for me."

Harry offered her a smile. "You're welcome, Miss Zoë," he replied. "Both you and Artie are awesome and I learnt a lot from you. And you're my friends, even if you don't think the same of me, and people should always help their friends."

Zoë was silent, but offered a nod anyway. They didn't speak for a few moments, before Harry looked back up at her. "Was Artie really mad? You said it had been difficult."

The Lieutenant to Artemis' Hunters sighed slightly. "My Lady was most displeased," she confided. "She spent quite a long time explaining her displeasure to me. 'T is a… humbling… experience to have one's faults listed extensively."

Harry felt bad for her. "My Lady then disciplined me," Zoë said, still softly.

To Harry, that word had_ bad_ connotations. Almost as bad as_ punishment_. His shoulders straightened, and suddenly Zoë realized that Harry was indeed a Demigod, and thathe had been in quite a few hair-raising situations that had made him fight for his life.

Harry Potter suddenly looked _dangerous_. "What did Artie do?" he asked, his voice suddenly pitched an octave lower. His vibrant green eyed seemed to glow. When Zoë didn't immediately reply, Harry fully turned to face her. "What did Artie do to you?" he asked, again, more insistent.

Suddenly remembering him asking her not to call him _boy_, and the implications of the statements he had made to her, she realized what kind of memories it had triggered in him. She put a hand on his shoulder, and said, "'Twas nothing like what thou art thinking at all, Harry. I was given extra work. I assisted with cleaning the wolves, assisted with preparing meals, or assisted with cleaning up. 'Twas nothing like what thou art thinking at all."

At once, Harry seemed to deflate. "Sorry, Miss Zoë."

The Hunter looked amused. "Thou should take care of thy temper. 'T appeared like thou wert ready to storm My Lady."

Harry looked embarrassed. "I just didn't want you hurt, that's all," he confessed.

"And what are you two lovebirds talking about so seriously?" Hestia asked with a teasing lilt in her voice. Zoë, realizing she still had her hand on his shoulder, yanked it back as if scalded, and blushed faintly. Harry sighed.

"Please ignore her, Miss Zoë," the young demigod told his teacher. Giving Hestia a look, he continued, "She's trying to make trouble, that's all."

Hestia laughed, while Artie looked conflicted. Deciding on changing the subject _as far away from crushes as possible,_ Harry looked from one goddess to another, and asked, "Were you able to talk things out?"

Hestia smiled at him, revealing that he hadn't been at all subtle and knew exactly what he had done, but was willing to go along with it for now. "Artie accepted her part of the blame in recent events," the Goddess of the Home said. "As is befitting my beloved niece."

Artie seemed to be embarrassed for a few moments. "Perhaps I should have been clearer in my instructions," she admitted.

Hestia gave her a kind and supportive smile. "And?" she asked.

Artie seemed to shrink slightly. "And I am sorry for my lapse in judgment," she stated, sounding extremely embarrassed.

Harry felt bad for her, and decided to fix things the way he preferred fixing things. So he gave her a hug. "We all make mistakes, Artie, and no harm was done."

Hestia coughed slightly.

"No _permanent_ harm was done," Harry amended. Artie just laughed softly and hugged him back. She didn't say anything, but then again, nothing else had to be said.

Deciding that they had spent long enough in the large entry room of Helios' Temple, Harry broke the hug with his second-favorite goddess and invited everyone into the kitchen for some hot chocolate as this seemed like a hot chocolate situation to him.

0000

Harry sighed as he sunk behind his desk. He felt that odd sensation of being both exhausted and hyped up, but mostly he was relieved that everything was alright again between Hestia and Artie and Zoë.

Grabbing some paper and a pen, he started writing a letter to his mother. They didn't converse that often, but the recent events had been pretty major and he felt like his mother should know.

As he wrote, he found himself scratching out sentences and rewording them. It helped make sense of everything that had happened, and he realized suddenly that he was putting his inner thoughts and feelings into the missive; something he wouldn't have done had they been talking in person.

Maybe this writing thing would be good for more than just keeping in touch with his mother after all. He remembered how Hestia had told him to get to know Tyche better, and it seemed like this was an excellent way of doing it.

He wondered if his mother felt the same way, and whether she also found herself including private thoughts and feelings that she wouldn't otherwise communicate.

He hoped she did, he honestly wanted to know her better. If only Zeus hadn't forbidden her from talking to him.

Then again, if they had been talking straight up, maybe he wouldn't have had the courage to say these things to her.

Harry looked up from the draft version of his letter. Great, now he felt conflicted again. He drew in a deep breath, waited a few moments holding it in, then slowly let it out. Feeling better, he went back to his writing.

After Harry wrote the events that had happened that day, he stared at the paper for some time.

Finally, he decided to write down what was bothering him about saying more in a letter than in a straight face-to-face meeting, and asked her if she felt the same way about it. He was honestly curious if she felt as conflicted as he did.

After writing out a neat version, he signed it simply 'Harry', before folding up his missive and putting it in an envelope. After addressing it to 'Tyche, Goddess of Fortune', he went to find some drachmas to pay Hermes with. By the time he got back to his desk with his money pouch, the envelope had vanished.

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Mister Hermes."

**AN: ****This**** one was a bit of a struggle, my mental state hasn't been conductive to writing light and fluffy stuff lately. Maybe that's why this one is a bit more serious than usual.**

**A big thanks to Joshua, who helped with the Ares scene. Being from Belgium, where firearms are incredibly rare and hard to get, most of my knowledge of firearms came from movies and TV shows, and therefore wasn't conductive to realism. Joshua took one look at the scene and basically told me to do my homework properly – and I think the scene is far better for it. Thank you very much, man, I really appreciate it.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 23**

**AN: I want to thank every last one of my readers for the many, **_**many**_** kind messages of support I've received regarding my job situation. You're all wonderful people. Thank you so very much.**

**On the job front, I have signed a new contract with a new employer, starting on the first of June. Let's hope that (most) of this crisis is behind us by then or that date may be pushed back even further.**

Harry threw a peanut high into the air, then deftly caught it with his mouth. Chewing thoughtfully for a few moments, he swallowed and continued telling the story of recent events. He was sitting upright on a large picnic blanket, spread on top of a hill somewhere in Africa.

His gaze locked onto a herd of springbok that grazed languidly not far from the hill upon which he and his teacher sat. The group of antelope had gathered because of a watering hole not far away, and decided to stick around for the grass.

On the other side of the blanket, Marduk was lying on his back, staring at the sky, one hand holding a watercress sandwich. He chewed thoughtfully, his focus split between the story being told by his student, and an interesting cloud that he was having some fun with.

Suddenly, said cloud looked like a perfect double helix strand of DNA. _His own_ DNA, in fact. He grinned as he took another bite.

Between teacher and student, a large picnic spread had been laid out. Now mostly devoured, it had featured a couple of very interesting things that Marduk had greatly appreciated. Things that had gone out of style and popular knowledge a long time ago, but things he had enjoyed nonetheless.

How his student had managed to dig those dishes up, he'd probably never know.

"That's when I found out I could conjure food. Of course, by then I was so out of energy that I passed out because of it. Hestia felt me pull on her domain, and came to check and found me deeply asleep. She was _most_ upset. It took me days to get her to stop being angry with Miss Zoë and Artie. Luckily, I managed, though."

Well, that explained where he got the ideas for the dishes for, Marduk realized. A domestic deity would be able to determine a person's favorite dishes, and if Harry could pull on Hestia's domain, he should be able to do the same himself. "It must be because of that boost Hestia gave you, your boon is developing," the dark-skinned master of magic said in reply.

Harry nodded thoughtfully, his gaze changing from the herd of springbok to a solitary cape buffalo having a drink. "That's what Miss Athena thought, too. I'm just glad that I'm well enough now that I can conjure food or drink by pulling on Hestia's domain without passing out. That was embarrassing."

Marduk finished his sandwich and released his hold on the cloud, which immediately dispersed in retaliation for his meddling. "You attract trouble like honey attracts flies," he said with a deep chuckle. Sitting upright, he looked at his student.

Harry smiled ruefully. "Lots of people have said similar things," he answered. "My luck is seriously messed up, thanks to my mom. I swear, how bad does my luck have to be that one of the rarest bears in existence ate all the food in the area?"

Marduk's chuckle sounded again. "You were warned about your luck, if I recall correctly."

Harry pouted silently.

His teacher laughed again, before changing the subject. "Anyway, let's have a look at your experiment with fire. You failed completely, you said?"

The young boy nodded, slightly embarrassed. He raised his hand, and did the whole extract-hydrogen-and-make-it-burn trick again. A flash of almost-invisible orange flame was visible before added heat washed over him.

Marduk looked at it, a slight grin still playing on his lips. "I can see where you're failing," he said. "What concept of fire are you using?"

Harry blinked. "Sorry?" he asked. "What do you mean?"

His teacher thought for a few moments, and then replied, "What is fire? When you think of fire, what are you thinking about?"

Harry grinned, and said, "Fire is the rapid oxidation of a material in an exothermic chemical process, releasing heat, light, and various reaction products."

Marduk stared for a moment, and then burst out laughing. His deep, bass, voice sounded over the plains below, spooking the springbok herd for a moment and making the cape buffalo look up. "Someone has been studying physics and chemistry, I see," he chortled.

Harry nodded. "Miss Athena said that, if I am to master fire because of Hestia's boon, I need to know what it does and how it works."

The ancient mage shook his head. "And that would be perfectly valid in a normal situation. Unfortunately, you're dealing with magic, not science. Remember, _Belief shapes Reality_. You believe fire needs stuff to burn, so of course, it needs stuff to burn."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean? I mean, of course fire needs stuff to burn, right?"

Marduk lifted one hand. Suddenly, it burst into flames, long tendrils of yellow and orange reaching for the skies, creating flickering shadows. "When I think of fire, young Harry, I think of flames. Of heat, and light. My fire burns, but it does not require fuel. Or air. This fire can burn in the vacuum of space, or in the depths of the oceans."

Harry gaped at his teacher's flaming hand. "But… that's… that's not… I mean... _how_?" he finally managed to bring out.

"My concept of fire revolves around flames and light and heat, not on the underlying process," Marduk explained. "I want to conjure flames that create heat and light, and so magic creates flames that create heat and light, and yet do not require fuel or air, because they do not factor into my concept of fire."

Harry just gaped. "That's… wow," he said.

Marduk laughed again. "Concepts are important, Harry. Remember what I told you in our first lesson, how the concept of 'sleep' for some alien species is a six-month hibernation. For us, it a short rest that we can wake up from. For them, it is a six-month suspended animation. Completely different concepts. It's the same with fire. You expect fire to need fuel and air, so it needs fuel and air."

The young demigod just nodded thoughtfully. Marduk grinned. "Good. Now, stop thinking about the underlying process, and think just of flames and light and heat and try again."

Harry lifted his hand, and stared at it. He wanted a ball of fire, about the size of a golf ball, about 30 centimeters or so above his hand. He wanted it to need no fuel or air, but he wanted it to be _fire_ and be _warm_ and give _light_.

It took him some effort to shift his perception, to move away from the foundations of science that Athena had drilled into him, to ignore the fact that fire consisted of a fuel burning under the influence of heat and oxygen.

Eventually, he felt somewhat confident in his new visualization of the concept of fire, and he pushed some Shen energy at it. His awareness shifted and he could feel the energy flow out of his upper energy center, his upper _dan tian_, and be expelled from his body only to take the desired shape. His belief was somewhat haphazard, and he felt the magic somewhat-kind-of-maybe take shape.

Feeling success on the cusp of creation, he firmed his belief, now _knowing_ that it not only _could_ work, but that it _would_ work. The spell firmed up, and the magic completed.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the results.

A soft-looking, golf ball-sized, ball of fire hung, suspended in mid-air, above his hand.

Marduk grinned. "Well done!" he said, excitedly, before leaning in to take a closer look. Then he reached over and poked the ball. It didn't just _look_ soft. It _was_ soft. As Marduk poked it, it was like the fluffy little ball of fire deformed, as if it were a _plushy_ ball of fire.

"Eeeh..." Harry said, drawing out the sound, not having expected that.

"Mind your details, Harry," Marduk said. "You were focused on it looking like fire, and giving off heat and light. Well, it looks like fire, it gives off light, and from having poked it, it's warm but not hot, so you were thinking about warmth, not heat."

"Oh," Harry muttered, dismissing the fluffy and plushy ball of fire. Closing his eyes, he tried again. This time, he tried to keep in mind that he wanted it to be at the heat levels of fire, and that he wanted a ball of fire, not a plushy ball that looked like fire, and so forth.

For a simple ball of flames, the amount of detail was quite substantial, he found, and he had trouble keeping his wants straight in his mind.

Finally, he managed, or thought he did, and cast again.

The ball of fire that resulted looked a lot less _soft_ or _plushy_ and a lot more like an angry red-yellow ball of fire was supposed to look. Small yet distinct flames reached up from the conjured ball, making it look like an actual campfire in rounded shape.

"Well done!" Marduk complimented. "You shifted your perception, and changed your conceptualization of _fire_ and succeeded! Very well done, indeed! It usually takes new students longer to get to this point!"

"Thanks, Marduk," Harry said, somewhat bashfully, while staring at his latest achievement with a wide grin on his face. Finally, he turned to fully face his teacher. "How is it that magic doesn't follow the laws of physics?" he asked, curious. "I mean, fire that burns without fuel or air, that doesn't follow the laws of physics, how does it do that?"

Marduk flicked a couple of strawberries (with cream!) into his mouth, and chewed slowly, using the action to straighten his thoughts.

"Well now, that is an interesting question, with an equally interesting answer," the ancient wizard said. "The Akashic Records show that plenty of beings, from the dawn of the universe, have been looking into the relationship of magic and the laws of science."

Harry blinked. "Oh," he finally said.

Marduk grinned. "Yes. 'Oh' is a good description," he answered, teasingly. "Basically, from what has been found by myself and all the others who have gone before me, magic came first. The fundamental forces postulated by the laws of physics came afterwards, as if born from magic. Basically, Magic trumps Science, as Magic created Science."

Harry blinked. "I… don't think I understand," he replied, after giving it careful thought. Apparently, even Athena's boon had its limits.

Marduk nodded. "That's understandable," he said, gently, looking back up the sky. "Alright, I'll put it like this. How about a story?"

Harry blinked at the apparent non-sequitur, and was about to reply when Marduk pressed on regardless.

"Physics tells us the universe was born in a Big Bang. What came before that Big Bang, nobody knows. According to physics, fractions of a moment after the Big Bang, there was a unified, fundamental force. This unified force split, fractions of a fraction of a moment later, separating gravity. Then, again, a few fractions later, the strong nuclear force separated, triggering the proto-universe to expand rapidly. Then, the weak nuclear force and electromagnetic force separate, and the universe assumes the current laws of physics. That's what science tells you, correct?"

Harry nodded hesitantly. He wasn't that interested in this kind of thing, but Athena made sure his education was well-balanced, and so he had at least heard of these events. Even if it was just in passing.

Marduk stared up a cloud for a few moments, then said, "From what I, and the others before me, have been able to determine, the universe was born of magic. Magic is what triggered the Big Bang. Magic filled the universe, as magic created it. And magic is what gave the other so-called fundamental forces their properties. We don't know how or why, that is the realm of speculation and metaphysics."

Harry gaped. "So magic..." he trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say or how to continue.

"Magic is what the fundamental forces of the universe wish they were," Marduk said with a deep chuckle.

"That means that belief will change reality because belief relies on magic, which can override the laws of physics," Harry said, thoughtfully, after a few moments' contemplation.

"Exactly," Marduk said with a grin. "Of course, your belief still has to go up against the belief of others. So while magic can, in theory, make the laws of physics a bunch of silly little suggestions, you still need to contend with the fact that you may be going up against the solid belief of millions, if not billions, of others."

Harry nodded, remembering that bit. "So where do the gods fit in?" the young boy then asked. "I mean, there's science, the world that most people think we live in. And then there's magic, the world we really live in. But where do the gods fit in?"

Marduk grinned. "The gods you're thinking of, like your Greek gods, the Norse gods, the Hindu gods, and so forth, they all came about because of humans."

The young demigod blinked. "How so?" he asked, surprised.

His ancient teacher rolled on to his side, so he could look straight at Harry. "Remember, _belief shapes reality_."

"So gods came about because people believed in them?" he asked.

Marduk nodded. "Essentially, yes. All right, story time again. First of all, belief, and the stability it creates, is kind of like gravity. The further away you get from the source of the belief, the weaker its influence becomes. Correlating to this, the less sapient people there are in one place, the less stable reality becomes, as less people means less belief. This means, in essence, that reality becomes easier to manipulate."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. That made a twisted sort of sense.

"All right, now, let's take your Greek gods as an example. At the time they came to be, the human population is something like 10 to 15 million, worldwide. Less people around, and less formal education, means that there isn't a lot of belief in the sciences. Back then, people believed all kinds of things, so of course, belief shaping reality—"

"Means that reality back then was really different from our reality now," Harry said.

"Exactly," Marduk confirmed. "Now, imagine that you have a village of some kind. Say, fifty to a hundred people, which is a fair bit of people when the global population isn't that large."

The young boy nodded, so Marduk continued his story. "Now, one evening, they're all gathered around the bonfire in the central square, or circle, or whatever town center they have. And someone has an idea."

Marduk grinned, and pointed up. "It's night, and he points to the moon, and invents a story about a goddess called Artemis, who drives her chariot across the sky, her chariot being the moon. As he tells the story, and re-tells the story, it starts getting fleshed out, and people actually start believing him, and then it spreads, and before you know it, you have enough people believing the story that _bang_, suddenly there's a goddess called Artemis whose chariot is the moon."

Harry gaped at his teacher.

"Essentially," Marduk said with a wink. "Of course, it didn't happen that fast, nor that of-the-cuff, but that's essentially how every god and goddess came to be. Someone tells a story, another retells it, and suddenly there's a religion and enough people believe to make it a reality. Gather enough people and get them to believe hard enough and anything can happen. Especially when there aren't enough people around to keep reality stable. With a small enough total population, reality becomes really malleable. That's also the reason why tales of ancient magic speak of things we can only dream about doing now, and why things happened that seemed so implausible."

"Huh," Harry managed. "That… makes sense. I guess." He stared at a cheetah stalking the herd of springbok that had returned after Marduk spooked them earlier. "So humans created the gods, not the other way around."

"Exactly."

"Then how come some are still around? I mean, I don't think a lot of mortals still believe in the Greek gods, for example," Harry said.

"The Greek gods were smart and tied themselves to the concepts of Western Civilization; just imagine how many modern buildings look like Greek temples. It's tenuous, though, and no matter what they want you to believe, they're nowhere near as powerful as they were 2000 years ago," the dark-skinned teacher explained.

"Oh," Harry said, again. He was starting to get used to the fact that Marduk kept upending his worldview with each answer he gave. It was almost enough to make a boy stop asking questions.

Almost. If said boy hadn't been insanely curious and willing to learn.

"Is that how gods die?" he asked.

Marduk nodded. "Exactly, Harry. When people stop believing in those gods, their power fades, and eventually, they themselves fade away. In the 200,000 year history of mankind, more gods and deities have been forgotten than people remember today." He sighed, somewhat sadly. "The deities I grew up with, the gods and goddesses worshipped by the community I was born in, have completely passed from human knowledge. The way of life I knew when I was your age, it's completely gone."

Harry suddenly felt so intensely sorry for his teacher that he started to reach out and grab the man's hand. Just as sudden, Marduk shook his head, and grinned. "But that's just an old man pining for 'the good old days'," he said with a grin. He reached over, and ruffled Harry's hair. "Don't feel sad, my boy. Humanity is always progressing."

Harry offered a smile, glad to see his teacher not being down for long. "What you said about gods fading – is that what happened to Mister Helios? I can still feel him, somewhat, in his temple, though."

Marduk nodded, and turned to lie flat on his back again, a long piece of grass suddenly between his teeth. "Exactly," he replied. "People stopped believing in him, or there weren't enough people that still _did_ believe in him, and so he faded away. Just as the word implies, fading means slowly dying away. Maybe there are still enough worshippers around to keep him in a discorporated state."

"Does that mean we can bring him back?" Harry asked, excitedly. "Infuse him with a bunch of belief somehow?"

Marduk laughed loudly. "Harry, the age of the gods has mostly passed. Maybe you can convince a couple hundred thousand or so people to start believing in Helios again, but you may as well try to convince people that there are two large moons. Get enough people to believe _that_ and it'll come true, too."

Harry pouted at his teacher's response.

Marduk chuckled and ruffled his hair again. "Your heart is in the right place, Harry. However, at this point in time, it would take a substantial amount of belief to reincorporate Helios. And don't forget, getting him corporate again is one thing. You have to get those people to _keep_ believing or he'll fade again."

Harry just pouted harder.

Marduk laughed.

Harry decided to ignore his teacher laughing at him and focused on the cheetah instead. It was close to the herd of springbok now, and the young boy felt the curious dichotomy of both not wanting the big cat to hurt the springbok, _and_ wanting it to succeed at the same time.

The cat, unaware of Harry's moral quandary, sprang into action and chased one of the springbok. Harry immediately sat up straighter, all thoughts of morality forgotten, and just watched nature in action as the cheetah leaped at its prey, only to hit rock hard dirt as the springbok made a sharp turn that doubtlessly pulled many G's in cornering force.

The cheetah, panting deeply, had exhausted its short burst of available energy, and slowly moved off with its proverbial tail between its legs. Harry felt bad for it now; the magnificent cat would go hungry.

"Nature in action," Marduk said, apparently having sat up as well to watch the spectacle.

"Kill or be killed?" Harry asked.

His ancient teacher nodded. "Exactly. It's a harsh world we live on."

The young boy nodded, still thinking about that cheetah and the springbok. He hadn't wished hurt upon either of them, but in the end, the cheetah had to eat.

Shrugging off his thoughts about nature's cruelty in action, the young demigod turned to his teacher, and asked, "You know, we've been talking a lot about gods and stuff, instead of magic."

Marduk grinned and ruffled Harry's hair. "That's because I have a very inquisitive student who asks some very interesting questions. In addition, I will give you exercises and concepts, but it is up to you to develop magic. The way I do magic is suitable to me, but may not be suitable to you. If I start giving you step-by-step instructions, then I am limiting you in the ways magic can be used, and I would be no better than the wand-wavers."

"Cake-mix, right," Harry said, recalling the analogy.

Marduk laughed. "Exactly!" he cheered, ruffling the boy's hair again, and ignoring the pout he received in return. "Now, any other interesting questions?"

The demigod thought for a few moments. "Regarding gods," he said, thinking his question through. "The Greek gods, I mean. You said they weren't as powerful as they were 2000 years ago. How does that work? And are there gods that are still really powerful?"

Marduk nodded. "Good question," he said, thinking. "There is far, far more to it, of course, but basically, the power of a god, and the breadth of that power, come down to two things. One, the number of followers a god has. Two, how deep said followers believe in that god."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, that made sense.

"Alright," Marduk said, conjuring a rectangular block of wood. The sides were perfectly straight, and every corner came in at straight angles so that the narrow ends were perfect squares while the larger sides were perfect rectangles.

"It's a bit like this," Marduk said, shifting so that he was facing a patch of dirt next to the picnic blanket. Harry hurried to sit next to his teacher. "This is a very crude example. It's never this neat and there is more to it, but this is the basic concept," he explained.

Harry nodded, listening eagerly.

"A god, basically, is a nexus of power created by the focused belief of that god's followers," the ancient wizard told his student. He ran his hand over the ground, evening it out and creating a sandy surface that was easy to manipulate. "Imagine that this patch of sand is the three-dimensional world that we live in."

Harry nodded.

"This block is a representation of a god," Marduk went on to say, placing the block on the sandy ground. "Now, as far as the standard person in the world is concerned, the only thing he can see is the impression made by the god on the world." The wizard pointed to the side sticking up. "Most people can't behold the power inherent in the god because it extends into a higher dimension. That's also the reason why, if a god throws off their human shape, and display themselves as they really are, most people will die."

Harry blinked, he'd known that a god displaying their full form would kill a mortal, but now he understood _why_. And it made a twisted sort of sense, he supposed. Show a higher dimension to a person and they'll likely end up dying of a heart attack or a brain aneurysm or something.

"Let's circle back to your original question," his dark-skinned teacher said, removing the block and wiping the sandy patch clean.

"Imagine if you will, god A. God A has a thousand followers. Those followers are sort of, kind of, wishy-washy about their belief in god A, but they do believe. This means god A has a large _breadth_ of power, but not a lot of _depth_ to it. Like this," Marduk said, putting the block on the sandy patch with a rectangular side down and the square side sticking up.

"God A has a thousand followers, so he has breadth," Marduk said, pointing to the long sides and the rectangular side on the ground. "But because his believers don't believe that deeply, he can exercise his full power only a few times before exhausting himself and needing to rest," the ancient teacher went on, pointing to the short side sticking up.

Harry nodded. He got that. A god's power was the focused belief of their followers, and said belief was in a higher dimension, invisible to the people in the standard world. Which could kill mortal people if a god displayed it to them.

"Now imagine god B," Marduk said, taking his block off the ground, leaving a rectangular impression on the sand. "God B has a hundred followers. However, they are fanatical zealots. Their belief is so absolute that they can't ever imagine _not_ worshipping god B."

Marduk put the block on the ground, next to the rectangular impression, but he did so upright, with the small square side down and the long rectangular sides sticking up.

"God B, because he has less followers, has a small breadth of power. But because said followers are deeply religious, he can exercise the full force of his power all day long and not need a rest, basically," Marduk finished by removing the upright block, leaving only the rectangular impression and the square impression behind; the impression of that god on the mortal world.

Harry looked from one impression to another. "But people don't believe the same," he said.

Marduk smiled widely and nodded. "Exactly!" he said, pointing at the boy. "Exactly the point I tried to make! It's more heavily involved than that, but it's the basics, as I said. The more people believe in a god, the more power a god can bring to bear at once. The deeper those people believe, the more often that god can exercise that full power without exhausting himself and needing to go rest."

"That makes sense," Harry muttered.

"Now, your second question, are there gods that are still really powerful?" Marduk said, thinking. "Yes. Yes there are."

When he said nothing more Harry pouted at him. Marduk chuckled. "There are many pantheons that still have a lot of active worshippers. Be careful of them, Harry. Be very, very, careful. Hinduism, for example, has an extreme amount of active worshippers, and quite a lot of very devout ones. Some Hindu Devas and Asuras could take on the entire Greek pantheon by themselves."

Harry swallowed.

"There are agreements, though," Marduk said. "Pantheons have agreed geographic regions and try not to intrude on another pantheon's territory. So don't worry about other the Hindu Devas, or even the Asuras, unless you were to go to India."

The young bow frowned. "What does that mean? Deva and Asura?"

"Again, there is more to it, but basically, Devas are benevolent deities, and Asuras are the malevolent deities," Marduk explained.

Harry just nodded in understanding. For a few moments, they were silent, and Harry conjured another golf ball sized ball of fire, this one a lurid shade of purple that had absolutely no correlation with nature or physics whatsoever.

Marduk chuckled. "Now you're getting it," he said. "As long as you have the mental image, and the proper concepts, magic can make real anything you can imagine. Well done!"

The young boy grinned, but the compliment and his response broke his concentration and the fire faded out.

"That's something we will need to work on," Marduk said. "Keeping your focus is incredibly important. Here, your fire faded and it had no real consequence, but imagine you were holding up a bridge and your concentration broke just as people were crossing it."

The demigod winced at that mental image. "I have some exercises I will give you before you leave, you can practice them on your own," the ancient magic-user said. "They're mostly exercises on meditation and focus, but they'll help you maintain your concentration."

Harry nodded and conjured a new ball of fire, this one a kind of hot pink.

Marduk laughed. "I think that color is colloquially known as 'sex toy pink', Harry. I don't know where you encountered it, however," he said, teasing.

Harry blushed to the roots of his hair, and the ball of fire wavered for a few moments, but did not fade.

"Well done!" His teacher crowed. "Well done indeed!"

Keeping his focus on his sex toy pink ball of fire, Harry glanced at his teacher from the corner of his eye. "How about God?" he then asked.

Marduk blinked. "Which one? We've talking quite a bit about various gods this afternoon."

"_The_ God. You know, God," Harry said. "Where does He fit in?"

Marduk looked at his young student for a few moments, and then sighed. "You don't ask the easy questions," he said with a grin, thinking for a moment.

Finally, he said, "I'm of the personal opinion that a teacher should never force their beliefs on a student. As I can't prove or disprove anything, I will just say that the God, singular, is in the realm of metaphysics and personal faith, and leave it at that."

"Oh," Harry said.

His teacher, seeing the disappointment on the young boy's face, added, "It's a matter of personal beliefs, Harry. We don't, and probably can't, know for sure. That's why it's called 'faith'. And as I said, a good teacher should never foist their personal beliefs on a student."

The young demigod nodded.

"Now," Marduk said, grinning at the sex toy pink ball of flames, "we'll need to work on your inability to maintain focus, as well as on your ability to make things permanent. A ball of fire you need focus to maintain can be handy in certain situations, but having a way to create a permanent ball of fire would like be even more useful."

The young boy nodded eagerly.

"Okay," his teacher started. "The first thing to be aware of is the difference between temporary and permanent magic. The first is what you've been doing, and it's basically an illusion. An auditory, visual, sensory illusion, but still an illusion."

Harry blinked. "Just an illusion?" he asked. "So I couldn't really hurt anyone with it?"

Marduk grinned. "Make your illusion hot like fire and you can burn people with it," he said. "At some point, even an illusion can hurt and kill. But yes, since it is temporary, I call it an illusion. It's not _real_, insofar that _real_ things don't disappear when you stop thinking about them."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, processing the statement. "Like that example you gave of making something invisible? Because you made an item invisible as a property, it'll stay invisible even if you don't think about it?"

The dark-skinned man grinned widely. "Exactly like that, Harry. Illusions, temporary magic, can be incredibly potent and incredibly dangerous – make your illusionary bullet real to the touch and it can kill someone as readily as a real bullet will. And it will vanish when you stop thinking about it, which will confuse mortal authorities like nothing else."

Harry gaped at the man for a few moments. "Personal experience," Marduk said with a grin. "Now, the difference between temporary and permanent magic is how they're constructed," he explained further without giving Harry a chance to ask questions. "Temporary magic comes from you, and your own power. Your focus shapes it, your power forms it, and as long as you maintain the two, the illusion will hold. Permanent magic breaks down to either of two things. It's either a property, or an effect."

Harry let go the personal experience bit, and focused on what his teacher was telling him. "A property or an effect?" he asked.

The ancient mage nodded. "A property is something you can assign to an item, something that, once changed, is permanent unless dispelled. Like changing an item's color or weight. Or turning something invisible, which is basically saying 'no color'."

Harry nodded obediently and silently, listening attentively.

"An effect is more difficult, as it requires a constant influx of energy to produce," Marduk lectured. "For example, making an item float. In order to float, an item must produce lift to counter gravity."

Harry frowned. "But you said that weight is a property," he replied. "Doesn't that mean you could just say 'the weight is zero' and have an item float?"

Marduk grinned. "Assigning a weight of zero to an item will make it fly off with the slightest breeze, which isn't really what you want when you want an item to float."

The young boy nodded haphazardly, thinking that one through.

"Alright, example time," Marduk said, seeing he had lost his student. "It's like this." He grabbed two nearby stones. They were shaped differently but seemed to be more-or-less of the same weight, and he placed them between himself and his student.

"I will make this stone float," Marduk said, pointing to the stone on his right. The stone obediently floated into the air and hung there, suspended. The ancient wizard pushed it, and it obediently floated to a new location, before hanging where it was. "It still has weight, called 'mass', and will therefore stay where it is when placed somewhere. Because it floats, it will be in the air, but it will stay where it is unless moved."

Harry nodded. That seemed straightforward enough.

"Now, I'll take _this_ stone, and assign it a weight of zero," Marduk said, pointing to the remaining stone.

The stone stayed where it was, until it was picked up by a passing breeze, was taken into the air, and rapidly pulled away from them. "Now, you could say stone two floats, but the practical effect of that was very different from what you expected when you said 'make it float', am I right?"

Harry nodded as he looked after the second stone, which tumbled through the air, tossed about by a playful breeze, until it vanished from his sight.

"The first requires an influx of energy to counterbalance its weight and make it float," the teacher said. "The second did not, but the practical use of it is limited. I can move the first stone where I want to move it, because it floats in the traditional sense, then dispel the magic and float it into position. It's handy for moving large and heavy objects. Or for making floating cities, but those are rather ostentatious and modern people will probably try and shoot them down."

Harry stared at Marduk. The black man grinned and went on as if he didn't notice. "Now, a permanent effect magic would, you'd expect, require you to constantly feed it power to maintain said effect. But, the trick here is to anchor the magic into magic itself, rather than into your own personal reserves. In effect, you want the magic to anchor itself; cast the spell using your own reserves, and then anchor it into magic itself, effectively having it maintain itself without your constant attention."

"That sounds complex," Harry muttered.

"It takes a certain deftness of mind to do," Marduk agreed.

Harry was silent, digesting his next lesson. His teacher didn't interrupt him, and resumed his cloud watching.

"You said magic overrode the laws of physics," Harry suddenly said. "Does this mean you can make an item float by dismissing gravity from it?"

Marduk turned his head and grinned. "You can certainly make an item except from gravity," he replied. "But the results will be far from what you expect. Antigravity isn't what mortals think it is."

"How so?" the young demigod wondered.

"If you think that stone with zero weight disappeared quickly when caught by an errant breeze, you'd be surprised how quickly an item completely excepted from the laws of gravity would vanish," Marduk said with a grin. "Useful in certain situations, sure, but again, not the effect you're hoping for."

"Oh," Harry answered. That made sense, somehow.

They fell silent again, and Marduk went back to his cloud watching. That one looked like an anaconda devouring a zebra, he thought. If only anacondas lived in areas where there were zebras. Oh well, it was _his_ imagination, and if, in his imagination, anacondas ate zebras, then that's just what they did. He was pulled back to reality when Harry asked his next question.

The young boy had created a new ball of flames, this one a psychedelic kaleidoscope of colors that had no business being assigned to a ball of fire. "How do I make something permanent?" he asked.

"Basically," Marduk said, sitting up to face his student, "you need to give it a _twist_. Change the source of power feeding into it, from yourself to magic in general."

"Huh," Harry said, trying to imagine something like that. He did get it. "How do I do that?"

Marduk grinned. "I can tell you the _what_, not the _how_," he answered, calmly. "You were unusually quick on the uptake with getting magic to manifest, and this is your next hurdle. Most people have their own way of visualizing magic, so you'll need to figure it out for yourself, I'm afraid. Also, don't be discourage if it fails on you. Magic can be slippery when you try to make something permanent, so it may take you a while and quite a few tries to get it to stick. Once you have it figured out, though, it's easy."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. This was going to be a tough one. He had been doing magic by using the concept of _Shen_ from the martial arts books, but nothing in his studies so far had prepared him for assigning a spell to magic itself.

"So once I have that figured out, that's all there is to it?" Harry asked, turning to look at his teacher. "You said it would take me decades to learn to do magic this way."

Marduk grinned. "Oh, the boy has figured out that he can stand by using his hands to pull himself upright and by leaning against a wall, and now he thinks he can run the hurdles," he said, laughing softly while Harry pouted. "Ah, the over confidence of youth," the ancient mage continued, chuckling.

Looking back at his student, he said, "no, young Harry. No, that's not all there is to it. You've barely managed to create a ball of fire, an element you have an unusual affinity with thanks to your boon from Hestia." He created a glass, and plonked it down in front of the demigod.

"Oh, Harry, I am so very thirsty. Won't you conjure me some water?" he asked, in an over-the-top playful fashion.

Harry bit back a grin, amused at seeing his teacher over-act like crazy. He turned serious and focused on the glass.

He tried doing the same thing he did when he conjured fire – imagining the glass full of water, adding in temperature, and then pushing Shen energy at it. The glass was suddenly full of water.

"Now stop focusing," Marduk said, his grin teasing. Harry looked up from the glass, and immediately the water vanished. "Try it again, this time without using an illusion," Harry's ancient teacher said, gently, yet still grinning.

Harry flushed slightly. Focusing again, he tried to condense water from the outside air. The result was like an incredibly localized raincloud, dripping water into the glass at a glacial pace.

Marduk threw an arm over his eyes and pretended to sob. "Oh, how unfortunate I am, to be cursed with a student who can't even provide a drink for his thirsty teacher!"

Harry let out his breath in a gasp, and the cloud immediately dispersed. The glass had a bit of water in it, but it wouldn't even be a mouthful to him, let alone a grown man. He looked displeased. "Water's hard, especially if you have to make it permanent," he whined.

Marduk grinned and raised an eyebrow.

The young demigod looked away. "Point taken," he muttered. "Magic's hard."

His teacher grinned and ruffled Harry's hair. "Every student reaches a point where they think they know everything," he said. "Don't worry about it."

"I could have just drawn on Hestia's domain and gotten you a glass of water, though," the demigod said, still pouting slightly.

"But you didn't," the ancient man replied. "Yes, it would have satisfied the task I set, but it wouldn't have taught you anything. You're smart enough to realize that, or you wouldn't have done it."

Harry just nodded slightly.

"Good," Marduk went on to say. "Now, conjuration is a step up from illusions, almost like an intermediary step between non-permanent illusions and permanent magic. A pure element is the easiest to conjure. Basically, you are _converting_ energy into the physical element, rather than _shaping_ your energy into an element."

Harry frowned, and thought that over. "The first is an illusion because it's my energy that looks and feels like the element, but it isn't, while the second will actually create the element itself?"

"Exactly," Marduk said, proudly. "Good work. Just realize that the second will take more energy to do – it's easier to shape a chunk of energy into fire, or water. The second will mean you need to provide enough energy to basically create the element you're conjuring."

"E equals mc squared," Harry muttered.

"Kinda sorta," Marduk said with a grin. "Doing a straight conversion like that would mean you need the energy output of a major country to create a single glass of water. No, what you need to do, like with permanent magic, is to draw upon magic for the energy you lack yourself. The more you do it, the more you can draw at once, and the more you can conjure. Again, straight elements are easier. Conjuring complex items or organisms means tapping into the Akashic Records to provide the details you yourself don't know."

Harry nodded. "Like that lion you created last time," he said.

"Exactly," Marduk answered with a grin.

Before his teacher could speak again, Harry asked, "Does that mean you can bring back dinosaurs? If you create enough of them, I mean?"

Marduk laughed. "Let me tell you about an experiment I ran on some arctic island," he chortled. "Some thousands of years ago, I wanted to preserve the Wooly Mammoth, so I created a population on some remote arctic island. I think it's in Russia these days. Anyway, it went well at first, but the population imploded soon after."

"Aww," Harry said, feeling sad.

Marduk shrugged. "Things happen for a reason, and I guess it was their time to go extinct. Theoretically, yes, I could resurrect a species, create enough different individuals and have them go at it, but my experiment with the Wooly Mammoth shows that magic sometimes has side-effects."

The young boy just nodded. "Now," Marduk pushed on, "before you distract me again, and since we're almost done for the day. Here's an exercise for you to practice. Homework, if you will. Also, don't worry if you don't get it at first, it can take a long time to get right."

Harry nodded quietly, and his teacher went on. "I want you to close your eyes and try to feel for your magic."

Harry nodded again; he was confident he would get that step fairly quickly, considered he could see his own internal energy pathways. In essence, he probably only had to focus on his upper energy center, his _Shen_ Dan Tian.

"Once you have a solid feel for your own magic, try and feel outside of it._ Beyond_ it. That will be the magic that is out there, in the universe. It will be wild, untamed, filled and shaped with the belief of every sapient being. Feeling it is the first step. The easy step," Marduk explained.

"Using the energy is the second step, and it will be the hardest one. External magic is wild and untamed, as I said. It will feel like it is alive and has a mind of its own. Maybe it even does, nobody has been able to determine that one way or the other."

Harry nodded once more, not nearly as confident of this part as he was of the first.

"You said this was an intermediary step," the young demigod finally said. "Does this mean that permanent magic is even more difficult?"

Marduk offered a small grin. "Conjuring plain elements, fire, water, air, they're easy. Conjuration goes up in difficulty the more complex you get. Permanent magic is a bit like more complex conjuration – only, instead of creating a physical object, you're creating a permanent effect through magic." His grin widened slightly. "Start with conjuring some water. Or a gas. That will take you long enough to do. Learn to stand up by yourself without holding yourself up against a wall. We'll have plenty of time to go over 'walking' and 'running' later."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. It sounded like things were going to get difficult really soon.

0000

Harry entered Helios' temple through the front door, holding a few bags from the market. His thoughts were still with his magic lesson, and he felt like takeout rather than cooking.

"Hi, Mister Helios!" the demigod greeted the large statue. Helios' presence wrapped itself around him, like a hug.

Stopping in front of the altar, he opened his bags. "I've got a nice crispy rotisserie chicken, grilled vegetables, and fries," he told the statue as he opened the various containers and drew on Hestia's domain to conjure an empty plate.

The faded god's presence definitely approved, and the food Harry put out for him vanished before Harry even had a chance to repack his containers.

After repacking everything, Harry looked up at the statue. "I'm glad you enjoyed the food, Mister Helios," he said. "Time for me to get some food, too."

Helios' presence gave him another 'hug', and the demigod walked deeper into the temple, his mind with the magic lesson again. As he entered the kitchen, he was looking at a small ball of fire that hung, suspended, over one of his hands.

"This is going to be hard," he muttered to himself, dispelling the fire and putting the bags on the counter. As he turned around to grab some cutlery, he noticed that a golden envelope was lying ostentatiously in the middle of the table.

Picking the golden envelope up, he opened the flap and retrieved a card. A burst of laughter was drawn from his mouth.

"Can I laugh, too?" Hestia asked, suddenly right behind him.

Harry startled, letting out a small yelp with her sudden appearance. The Goddess of the Home giggled at his reaction.

"Hestia?" the young demigod asked, immediately giving her a hug. "I didn't hear you come in," he said, pouting.

"I was already here, waiting for your return," she offered. "You were deep in thought and walked right by me," she added with a teasing lilt to her voice.

Harry flushed.

"Now, can I laugh, too?" she asked again, smiling at the envelope still clutched in his hand.

Harry, glad for the change of subject, held the envelope out to her. "Hermes invited me to participate in _A study in the execution of various non-deterministic algorithms_ next week," he explained, having a chuckle.

Hestia let out a giggle. "Hermes is taking the idea of a maths party and running with it, I see," she said with a laugh.

He just shrugged. "It's an idea that stuck, I think," he replied with a grin. "Besides, it sounds better than 'gambling night'."

Hestia nodded thoughtfully. "That's very true." She looked at him, appearing worried all of a sudden. "Are you being careful? Gambling can be addictive."

He hugged her again. "The guys are great, and it's just a bit of fun. They treat gold like poker chips, so I'm doing the same. That way, it's not like we're gambling for real money. Just gold-colored poker chips."

Hestia snorted a laugh. "Only you would treat a small mortal fortune in gold as 'poker chips'," she told him affectionately. "Now, I believe you bought food at the market. You should eat before it goes cold."

Harry grinned, put the envelope down on the table and dove for crockery and cutlery. "Would you like some too?" he asked.

"I will just conjure something for myself," she promised, taking a seat at the table. "I'm just curious to see what you bought."

Harry laughed as he filled his plate. "You probably already know, you being the Goddess of the Home," he replied as he turned to take a seat.

Hestia shot him an impish smile and winked at him, causing him to laugh. It felt good, being able to joke with Hestia. It felt _right_.

Still smiling, he dug in, happy that things between them were finally back to normal between them.


	24. Chapter 24

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**AN: sorry, I forgot to post chapter 23 - so as an apology, here is a second chapter. :) **

**Chapter 24**

Harry waved at the rising sun, grinning as it winked back at him. Or it pretended to, anyway; as usual, he couldn't quite make it out.

Drawing a deep breath, he sat down next to the hot springs, folded his legs up, closed his eyes, and dropped into a meditative trance. His body utterly relaxed, his mind flowing free through the universe, he finally pulled himself together and focused on his inner energy.

His energy levels were nicely balanced, and his energy network was open and circulating without issue. Good. That was good.

He tried, once again, to externalize his _Chi_. A flash of red and yellow was followed by a veil of black.

He woke up half an hour later, flat on his back. "Ow," he complained. Groaning, he dragged himself on to his feet. "Looks like I will never be able to do that," he muttered to himself. "That _sucks_."

He closed his eyes, and re-centered himself. After another disastrous attempt at externalizing Chi, his energy flow was completely out of balance and he needed to work at re-centering it and restoring the correct, unimpeded, flows.

Finally, he drew a breath and opened his eyes once more, feeling a lot better with all three energies nicely balanced.

He pouted for a few moments, feeling down about not being able to shoot Chi out of his hands like some of the comics the three sons of Apollo so enjoyed. That would have been awesome.

He'd have to ask Marduk about doing that with magic next time. That could be fun.

Remembering a different exercise from the Big Book of Martial Arts, Harry decided on trying something new. After all, since he couldn't shoot blasts of energy, he may as well try something else, something _different_, but therefore no less spectacular.

No less dangerous, either. If he messed this up, he could blow himself up. If he did not do this evenly, he could lose control over all three energy types at once; if they moved around too much, the resulting detonation would rip him to shreds.

_No pressure there, Harry,_ he told himself.

He drew a breath and centered himself. If he had enough momentum, then theoretically, all he had to do was lift his energy and raise all three energy centers, evenly, at the same time.

He reminded himself that, if he lost control, all he had to do was release the centers and let himself fall. Just, you know, as long as he did it _evenly_.

He went very still, and concentrated.

Then, finally, he launched himself at the wall, one foot hitting the wall _hard_, momentum allowing him to push himself up the next step.

He then grabbed his energy centers and lifted them. _Evenly_, he reminded himself even though it wasn't necessary.

All three energy centers moved, and lifted him from the inside out.

It felt euphoric on a level he had not yet experienced; the feeling of being carried from the inside out by his own energy was incredible.

He managed three more steps up the wall, carried by his own internal energy, before he felt the centers slip out of his control.

Immediately, he dropped them back into place, and the upwards force was replaced by gravity asserting its dominance.

He fell, feeling as if the ground was spinning to meet him.

"Ouch," he muttered, even as demigod reflexes allowed him to tuck-and roll to dissipate most of the fall's energy. He rolled one shoulder. That was going to bruise.

He didn't mind, because _he had just run up a freaking wall_.

Harry grinned widely, re-centered himself, and tried it again. He made it _five_ steps up this time, before falling. The bruise was on his other shoulder this time, but he didn't care; this was a trick he could learn, and learn well, it seemed! He was going to have so much fun with this one, he could tell.

He concentrated, and re-centered himself, preparing for another go at it. Even if he ended up full of bruises, the results would be worth it.

An hour later, he re-entered the temple, covered in sweat and bruises, but smiling widely. Wall running was _awesome_.

After a shower and a change of clothes, he made himself some breakfast, and shared it with Helios, before going back outside.

Once more, he sat down next to the hot spring, and closed his eyes. This time, he tried to find the magic behind his own, as Marduk had told him.

For a week now, he'd been trying, and failing, to find the greater outside magic.

Harry's focus darted in and around his upper dan tian, his _Shen_ energy center, yet couldn't find anything even closely resembling outside magic. Apparently, the oriental methods that had worked so well for him so far were letting him down miserably.

Maybe he would have to find some other method, some other way, of visualizing his internal magic and realizing his access to the greater outside magic.

0000

That evening, Harry sat quietly, next to a sealed box of cookies, watching the fire. He'd been baking the entire afternoon and now he had a box full of cookies, everything ranging from chocolate chip to raisin bran. He hoped the guys liked them. And his mom, Hermes had said he'd invite her again.

Part of him wondered why it had taken over two months before the next invitation came, but he was determined not to ask. He was just glad to have been invited at all. For all he knew, everyone had been busy.

The fire pinged and Harry grinned. Thor had sent him a flag, and resolutely, he picked up his box of treats and walked through the fire.

"Harry! Welcome to Asgard!" The Norse God of Thunder boomed as Harry strode through a hearth in a large hall.

"Hi, Thor!" The young demigod said, grinning widely. "Happy to be here." he looked around; the room he had appeared in was a large hall, kind of like how he had expected an old Viking Hall to look like. One side had some large windows, however, that should have been completely out of place, yet somehow weren't.

Looking out, Harry saw that the building he was in was located on top of a mountain, and judging from plants and trees, it was bombarded by heavy winds. Built around the mountain, and on its slopes, were homes. Palaces, for the lack of a better word, built from silver, gold, or other precious metals. Each palace had huge doors and tall towers, and vast gardens stretched around and between them.

Harry had been on Olympus enough to recognize the feeling of a Divine City, so he realized that this place must be the real Asgard. Around the city stretched a great wall with white ramparts, tall and thick and strong.

Then, Harry noticed details. Through the windows, fine drapes hung in tatters. The streets were empty; the braziers that lined the roads were cold and dark. Statues were overgrown with thorn bushes; no fires burnt in any of the buildings he could see.

Thor had stepped next to the boy. "Quite a few of us are dormant or traveling," he explained. "It is a quiet place, these days." He shrugged then. "They'll be back, and things will go back to what they were, don't let yourself worry."

Harry grinned at the Norse God, and nodded. "Alright, Thor."

The big god gave a laugh, and slapped him on the shoulder. "Come, sit," he invited, motioning to a bar set against one side of the massive hall.

As the young boy nodded his acceptance, and sat on one of the barstools, Thor slapped a tankard down in front of him. "Have a drink, while we wait," the god stated, filling his own.

Harry shrugged and sipped. "Whoa, honey mead," he said, staring at the drink. "This stuff is brilliant."

Thor's smile widened. "Best in the Nine Realms!" he boasted, before leaning in. "It's been a while, so I'm sure you have new tales to regale us with," he cajoled easily. "Any hints for your old friend Thor before the others get here?"

Harry laughed, and pulled open the container. "Would you like a cookie?" he asked, blatantly changing the subject.

Thor laughed, and looked in the box. He fished out an oatmeal cookie. "You wound me, my young friend," he lamented on a tone that showed he wasn't wounded in the slightest.

"Plying our young guest with alcohol?" Triton asked as he appeared without fanfare. "Hestia will disapprove," he added, before finishing with a greeting. "Hello Harry, Thor."

Harry took another sip from the tankard while Thor nodded a greeting back to the Messenger of the Seas. He'd learned enough from Athena's lessons to know that, if he only drank one, and stayed long enough, he'd be stone cold sober by the time he returned.

"Hi Mister Triton!" Harry greeted, immediately holding out the box. "Would you like a cookie?"

"Don't mind if I do," Triton agreed, fishing out a chocolate chip cookie. "Your confections have grown in reputation. There was a tale about a delicious cake sent to my father."

"Oh?" Thor said. "More tales of bravery and wit?"

"Tales of labors in the kitchen in any regards," Hermes said, appearing in a sparkly of lights. "Triton, Thor, Harry."

"Hi, Hermes!" Harry chirped, holding out his box. "Cookie?"

"I'll never say no to one of your creations," the Messenger God said, grabbing a raisin bran cookie while the other two gods said their greetings.

"Now I find myself even more curious," Thor said. "Harry refused to share in advance."

Hermes grinned and messed up Harry's ever-messy hair. "That's my grandson. Always leave them wanting more."

Harry smiled back at his grandfather, and took another drink of mead. He hadn't been kidding earlier, this really was very good.

Bai was suddenly there, already seated at the bar. He didn't look as energetic as he usually did. "Guys, Harry," he greeted. "Drink, please," he asked Thor.

The God of Thunder simply poured him a mug. "You alright?"

The Chinese God shrugged. "Been better. Been worse, too. I'll live."

Harry felt bad for him. "Is there anything we can do to help?" he offered.

Bai eyed him. "You're implying we can't handle our own problems?" he asked, dangerously flat.

"Bai!" Hermes snapped. "You know that's not what Harry meant!"

Harry shrugged instead. "Everybody needs help sometimes, and that's what friends do, help each other out," he said. "I didn't mean to imply anything; I was just offering help, like Hestia told me to do."

Bai eyed him for a moment more, then finally shrugged and relaxed slightly. "Thanks for the offer, kid, but no, nothing you can do to help."

The young demigod just nodded. "Alright, Bai. But the offer's open if you need it."

Bai snorted. "Thanks, kid," he answered, draining half his mug of alcohol. "I appreciate it."

"Bai's been… busy," Hermes said, as if to lessen the impact of Bai's testiness. "It's why this get-together was delayed a bit."

Harry just nodded, accepting the explanation. He didn't need to know what had kept Bai; he just wanted the Chinese God to know that he'd help if he could.

The four gods all turned at exactly the same time, watching as the last invitee arrived.

Tyche looked both uncomfortable and nervous. "Good evening, My Lords," she greeted the four gods politely, before turning to Harry.

She tried to speak to her son, yet no sound emerged from her throat. Hermes' shoulders sagged slightly. "Dad's curse travels, it seems," he muttered sadly. "Sorry for getting your hopes up."

Harry bravely patted the Messenger God's arm, obviously upset but equally obviously trying to reign it in. "It was a good idea. Thank you for trying, Hermes," he said, softly, before turning to his mother.

"Hi, Mom," he said, softly. And, everyone noticed, somewhat uncomfortably.

She tried to speak again, her voice failing once more, before sadly gathering him up in a hug.

He hugged her back. "I _really_ don't like Mister Zeus," he confided in her. She gave him a gentle squeeze. "At least we can write," he said, trying to find the silver lining.

His mother nodded sadly, before looking up from her son. The four gods seemed unusually occupied with the contents of Thor's barrel of mead.

"Thank you for the invitation, My Lords, but unfortunately it seems that my personal punishment would make this evening incredibly uncomfortable," she told them, sadly.

"Entirely understandable," Thor replied, easily.

Tyche looked down at her son, who seemed lost. She gave him another hug, and then made scribbling motions.

He grinned at her. "I'll write, Mom," he told her. She gave him a nod, and a smile, before saying her farewells to the four male gods, and disappearing.

"That seems like a story," Bai stated. "Cursing a goddess badly enough that it travels across realms is no small feat."

Harry sat down at the bar again, and drained what remained in his remaining tankard of mead in one go. Bai let out an impressed whistle.

"Apparently, Mom got angry after our last game, when she found out I was on Olympus," the young demigod said, staring at the empty tankard as if debating whether he could get away with a refill or not. "The next morning, I was called to the Throne Room; Mister Zeus had brought Mom up on charges."

Hermes looked upset, and drained his drink. He had no compulsions against asking Thor for a refill. Triton had heard everything second-hand, and looked interested in hearing things from Harry's first-hand account. Bai and Thor looked dangerous, all of a sudden.

"What kinds of charges?" Thor asked.

"Apparently, he thought Mom broke some laws by going to the mortal world as her mortal aspect, scare a few mortals into straightening things out, and manipulating a domain that wasn't her own," Harry explained. "Oh, and she talked to someone in the Slavic Pantheon, too," he added.

The two foreign gods nodded, as if in sync, urging him to continue. "The other gods don't agree, though, because they feel that they would have done the same thing if they found out their children had been treated as I had been," the young demigod said. "That makes Mister Zeus really mad, and he said that, because Mom had manipulated _his_ domain, he didn't need the rest of them to punish her. So, he cursed her to not be able to talk with me, or answer my prayers. Ever."

"Worst of all, she hadn't manipulated Father's domain," Hermes interjected. "She's Goddess of Fortune. She manipulated probability into having nature create the bolts of lightning she used to scare a mortal."

"That..." Thor said, trailing off dramatically.

"That evil bastard," Bai declared. "Why? Why did he do this?"

Harry looked at his empty tankard as if he wanted to disappear into it.

"Because dear old Dad is still upset Harry exposed his philandering in front of his wife and the entire Olympian Council," Hermes replied. "We've all pointed out that keeping up a one-sided feud against a mortal reflects badly on him, but unfortunately Dad will always be Dad."

Harry blinked when his tankard refilled itself. He looked at Thor, who winked at him, then surreptitiously put a finger to his lips in the universal 'this is our secret' motion.

The young boy gave a sad half-grin at the Norse God of Thunder. The others were gods, the entire thing had not escaped them, and they decided to just play along. All four recognized that their young guest was still down, and that something needed to be done.

"After that tale, I think we need something more upbeat," Triton declared. "I heard some interesting rumors about a statue and the defeat of a two thousand year old spidery enemy."

Harry slowly smiled at the Messenger of the Seas. "I didn't really defeat Arachne, Mister Triton," he said. "I just got her to turn back, that's all."

Hermes grinned, and sat up straighter, wanting to hear the first-hand account of this adventure. Thor and Bai laughed.

"That sounds like a tale, Kid. Have a drink and share!" Bai encouraged.

"It all started when I took some friends of mine on a trip to Rome. School was coming up for them, and I thought we could use a day away, you know?" Harry said, starting the story of getting the Athena Parthenos back. Already, his mood improved as he thought of the fun adventure.

0000

"That's when I wake up in the infirmary, to find out someone set my dislocated shoulder, and with Hestia _disappointed_ in me, because I took a huge statue through personal transport," Harry finished, finding his audience paying rapt attention.

Thor boomed out a laugh. "You have the most exciting adventures!" he said, still chuckling.

The other three agreed, nodding deftly at the statement. "Come, let's play," the Norse God of Thunder said, stepping from behind the bar.

Harry grinned, sad mood completely forgotten, hopped off the stool, and found that his legs felt strange. He glanced at the empty tankard. That mead was stronger stuff than he thought, it seemed. He'd have to stay longer and make sure he was sober before returning home. He and Hestia were back to normal, he didn't want a repeat of disappointing her.

A small voice told him he shouldn't have had the alcohol if he hadn't wanted to disappoint Hestia, but a larger part of him stated that refusing a god pouring you a drink could be just as bad.

He sat down at the poker table and nimbly stacked his gold. "Who's dealing?" he asked, happy to play a game instead of recount his adventures.

Thor laughed and smacked a brand new deck of cards down in front of the demigod; they were still in the wrapping paper, too.

His nimble fingers immediately opened the packaging, extracted the cards from their box, dumped the non-standard cards, including jokers, back into their box, and shuffled them expertly.

By the time he looked down at his hands, he was already shuffling.

"Kid, as impressive as that is, it'll make every player weary of you," Bai counseled. "So you may want not want to show just how good you are at that when you play with regular people."

Harry flubbed the shuffle, and cards sprayed out of his hands.

"You probably don't want to shuffle that badly either," Thor said, amusement on his face.

"Whoops," Harry muttered as he gathered the cards, did a strip cut, shuffled them, did a block cut, shuffled them _again_, then put the deck in front of Thor. "Please cut," he requested of the Norse God of Thunder, who burst out laughing as he cut the deck.

"We'll turn him in a professional card shark yet," he told the other deities, who offered different levels of amusement.

"Nah," Harry said as he took back the cards and gave them a final shuffle. "There's no need to ever go professional," he said, giving them all a _look_.

Thor and Bai laughed loudly, Hermes joining in a few seconds later, while Triton, highly amused, slowly shook his head.

"As long as you have some poor and unsuspecting gods to cheat out of their lunch money," Bai added, to more laughter.

Harry grinned at the Oriental deity. "I've said it before, I'll say it again. Poor unsuspecting gods? Where?" the young demigod asked, cheekily.

More laughter.

"Seriously, though, guys," Harry said, as his fingers dealt cards on their own. "I've explained it to Hestia, too. I treat the gold as if they were poker chips. That way, it's not really money, you know?"

"Hence the reason why you come back with the same stack of gold you had last time," Hermes said, eyeing Harry's loot.

The young demigod grinned at his grandfather. "Hestia takes good care of me, what would I need this amount of gold for, anyway?" he asked.

0000

"So I was walking along the beach in mortal form," Bai said. "When I came upon this small restaurant. Feeling hungry, I entered, to find the place packed. Luckily, I got the last seat, and ordered a bowl of soup. I raise," the Chinese god added, throwing in some gold bullion.

The others called.

"Anyway, my soup arrives, and I start eating, only to find this huge Saint Bernard staring at me and my bowl of soup. The owner, seeing this, tells me not to worry, that the dog's friendly, and really smart, so it wouldn't do anything," Bai continued his story. "Pair of sixes."

"Two pair," Thor said. "Threes and Jacks."

Triton threw his hand down. "Pair or nines," he stated.

"Three of a kind, eights," Hermes said, grinning widely.

"Sorry guys. Straight," Harry declared, raking in his loot, dexterous fingers pilling the gold into stacks.

"Still taking our lunch money," Bai muttered humorously as the deck shifted over to the next dealer. "Anyway, so I tell the owner the dog doesn't look that smart, seeing as it's just staring at me. The owner grins and says, 'oh, no, it's not you he's staring at. It's the bowl. He recognizes that bowl. It's the one he usually eats out of.' I never was in more of a hurry to leave a place."

Everyone burst into laughter, Bai included.

As Triton startled to shuffle, Hermes looked at Harry, still grinning over what happened to Bai. "By the way, Harry, didn't I hear rumors about you getting in trouble with my sister and her Lieutenant?"

Harry frowned, and looked back at his grandfather. "I haven't been in trouble with Artie. Or with Miss Zoë," the young demigod said, confused. Suddenly, the metaphorical lightbulb went off. "But they got in trouble with Hestia."

"That sounds like a story," the God of Messengers said as Triton dealt.

Harry shrugged. "It all started when Miss Zoë decided it was time my next test in survival skills," he said, starting the story.

0000

"It took me some time to get Hestia to forgive both Artie and Miss Zoë," Harry concluded. "But on the other hand, I can summon food and drink now, so that's a boon."

"Kid, you have the most interesting trouble after you," Bai said, shaking his head.

Harry pouted. "If that stupid bear hadn't eaten everything, Miss Zoë would have been right," he defended his teacher.

"You have such a crush on her," Hermes said, causing the three other gods to laugh.

"I do not!" Harry yelled, before realizing they were just teasing him. He crossed his arms and pouted. Which, of course, set off another round of laughter.

Fine, let them laugh. Looking at his cards, he said, calmly, "all in." With no effort, he shoved the various piles of gold currency into the middle of the table without knocking any of them over.

The four gods shared a look, and as one, decided that discretion was the better part of valor where Harry's card skills were concerned and folded.

The young boy grinned, and collected his winnings.

"What'd you have?" Hermes asked, curiously.

"A pair of threes," Harry said, as if it were the highest hand in the game.

His poker buddies were silent for a few moments, before Thor let out an impressed whistle. "You have nerves of steel and balls of brass," the Norse God of Thunder said. "Not many people, especially mortals, would dare to pull that trick on us."

Harry grinned. "Payback for teasing me," he answered with a chuckle.

"Balls of brass. Big ones," Thor repeated, before laughing and slapping Harry on the shoulder, almost driving the poor demigod out of his seat.

Hermes and Bai seemed to like the joke, but Triton gave Harry a good, long, and above all _stern_ look. Just long enough to make the boy feel uncomfortable, before giving him a short wink.

0000

"You should have seen the look on that merchant's face when he discovered his purse full of ill-gotten gold was gone," Hermes said, chortling.

Everyone chuckled. "Three queens," the God of Thieves finished.

"Pair of nines," Triton said, putting his cards down.

"Pair of sixes," Thor said, huffing slightly.

Bai just scowled and put his hand down. "Garbage," he said.

Harry looked dejected. "I only have two pair," he said, making Hermes perk up. "A pair of tens," he continued, putting the pair down, "and a second pair of tens," he finished, laughing.

The look on Hermes' face was probably as funny as the look on that merchant who found his purse missing.

Both Harry and the three other deities seemed to think so, anyway, as they laughed. The God of Messengers pouted outrageously.

"No mercy for your dear old grandfather?" he asked the demigod as the deck passed back to Harry.

The boy grinned at the god. He liked Hermes, he could both take a joke and diss one out. "You want me to _throw_ a game?" the demigod asked, aghast. Without paying attention to it, he had picked up the deck and startled shuffling it.

The God of Thieves pouted deeper. "No..." he wheedled, trailing off.

Harry shrugged. "Not really much I can do, then," he said, as he continued to shuffle the deck. Finished, he started the motion to flick the first card out, when he stopped, and stared at the deck with a frown.

Turning it over, so the cards were exposed, he fanned them out on the table in front of him.

The cards were in numerical order, Ace to King, suit by suit. "What the?" he managed before any of the gods could react. "I shuffled them back into numerical order. How did I do _that_?"

"Kid, that's one heck of a talent," Bai acknowledged. "Especially since you didn't even seem to be paying attention to it. But honestly, that's going to make anyone weary of playing with you."

The boy just nodded. "Yeah, no kidding. I didn't even mean to do that," he said. "I'm not even sure _how_ I did it, either."

He stared at the cards for a few moment, then swiped the cards together and passed them on. "I think other people better shuffle for now," he said. "Until I figure out what happened, what I did, and how I can avoid it in the future. Like you said, Bai, it'll make everyone uncomfortable, and I'm not a cheater. I'll take everyone's lunch money fair and square."

They all laughed and Thor startled shuffling.

0000

"So, more than slightly drunk, I tried to sneak back inside the palace," Thor recounted. "Unfortunately, my less-than-stellar drunken sneaking was no match for Heimdall's keen eyesight and keener hearing. Fortunately, he took pity on me. Unfortunately, he did so by sneaking me past the palace guards in a barrel of wine."

There was sniggering from Triton and Harry, and outright laughter from Hermes and Bai. "The smell did not wash out," Thor continued. "The next morning, Father looked at me, raising the eyebrow over his functioning eye, and need not say anything."

The sniggering had turned to outright laughter now as well.

"Fortunately, Father decided that the hangover was enough punishment, and ordered nobody heal me or otherwise relieve me of it," the Norse Thunder God recounted.

More laugher. "I learned my lesson, and wasn't caught the next time," Thor finished, in his usual boisterous manner, joining in the merriment of the others.

Once the laughter subsided, he announced, "Two pair, fours and jacks," while putting his cards down.

"Bah," Bai said, putting his hand down. Triton frowned, and put his hand down as well.

"Three twos!" Hermes announced, trumping Thor's two pair with a three of a kind.

"Flush," Harry announced, raking in his loot. The four gods grumped good-naturedly.

0000

"I have no luck today," Bai said, once more throwing his cards down in a clearly exaggerated manner that showed he really didn't mind that much. "Mahjong, anyone?"

Harry grinned. "Sure, I'll play mahjong!" he said. "At least that way, I won't accidentally cheat with the cards."

"I'll grab a drink and sit out the first round," Hermes said when both Thor and Triton announced interest in playing the tile game.

"Do you still remember the rules, Kid?" Bai asked Harry.

The young boy nodded, then grinned, and recapped both the rules and the most common winning hands.

"You only played once, months ago," Bai said, clearly impressed. "You must've read up on it, didn't you?"

The demigod shook his head. "I think I forgot to tell everyone what Miss Athena did for the return of her statue. The day I woke up, she summoned all of us to Olympus, and basically gave all of us who helped retrieve her statue a boon."

"She enhanced your mind, didn't she?" Hermes asked, lifting a tankard off the bar and taking a drink.

Harry nodded. "Better retention and a minor boost in intelligence. And because I was the one to lead everyone to her statue, she gave me a second gift." He lifted his left arm away from the table, and emerged the shield.

"Nice one," Bai admitted, while the other gods let out equally impressed sounds.

"You're gathering quite the collection of divine items," Triton said.

Harry nodded eagerly. "Isn't it great, Mister Triton? And all I'm doing is what Hestia told me – I just help people. I like helping, I don't even ask for anything, because Hestia said helping is its own reward."

"Spoken as a true hero," Thor said, slapping Harry on the back. The young boy tried not to let show that his shoulder was starting to hurt from where Thor kept slapping him, and dismissed the shield instead.

"So you're using the boon from your Goddess of Wisdom to take yet more of our money?" Bai asked, turning the conversation back to the game.

"Oh, stop complaining," Triton said, grinning. "Every time we play, you whine about someone taking your money. You're the god of metals, you conjure gold out of thin air, it's not like you'll miss it."

Bai frowned. "But I like complaining!" he complained.

Harry laughed softly, reached over, and patted Bai's hand. "There, there, Bai. You can complain if you want to." He dropped back into his seat at the table that had suddenly changed from a poker to a mahjong table, and asked, "Shall we play?"

"And take more of your money?" Triton added. Bai frowned playfully and the others laughed.

They shuffled the tiles around, built walls, and started playing. Each in turn, picking up and discarding tiles as the rapid play went around the four players.

"Mahjong," Harry declared, turning over his tiles.

Bai just gave him a baleful glare. He returned a hopefully disarming smile.

The Chinese God winked at him, showing it was just play, and they shuffled again. Every four games, they swapped out a player so everyone got a turn.

0000

Harry came home late. _Very_ late. He sent out a greeting to Helios, and then started to walk towards his sleeping area, intent on changing into pajamas and falling into bed.

Instead, the hearth flashed, and Hestia stepped through.

"Had a good night, Harry?" the Goddess of the home asked, smiling faintly. "Considering some people would call this 'morning'."

Harry shuffled awkwardly, digging at the floor with one foot. "Hi, Hestia," he said. "Yes, the party was brilliant. Well, it turned brilliant; the guys were great at cheering me up after it turned out Mom couldn't talk to me, even on Asgard."

Hestia nodded in understanding, and bundled him in a hug. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said, before pulling away. "Did you drink?" she asked, eyeing him intently.

So intently, in fact, that Harry was s_ure_ that she already knew the answer and that a fib wasn't the response she was looking for.

He shuffled some more, looking at his feet. "Ehm… yes? But when the God of Thunder puts a drink in front of you and tells you to drink, then 'no' isn't the best thing to say, you know?"

Hestia stared at him, sternly. "And did you have only the one?" she asked, once again on a tone that stated she knew _exactly_ how much he had to drink.

"Ehm… no?" he whispered.

"No," she repeated. "How much did you have?"

"Ehm..." Harry whispered. "Two? But honestly, the second was right after Mom and everything, and I kept away from alcohol for the rest of the evening, and I didn't fire-travel drunk or anything," the demigod said, trying to defend himself.

Hestia sighed. Harry suddenly felt very tiny. "I'm sorry, I know you don't like it when I drink," he finally said, looking at his feet again.

Hestia gave him a hug instead. "I'm glad that you try and be responsible, Harry," she finally said. "I'm just trying to look out for you. Too much alcohol isn't good for a growing boy."

"I know," he replied softly. "And I do try. But sometimes, a god puts a drink in front of me, and it's really bad manners to say no and all that."

"I know, Harry. I know. And you do try to be responsible, I know that. So far, I haven't seen you get drunk, nor, as you put it, fire-travel while intoxicated," the Goddess of the Home said. "So while I will give you a hard time every time I do catch you, I will not be too disappointed until you show me that you can't be trusted."

Harry hugged his all-time favorite goddess back. "Still the best goddess ever," he told her.

"No, I'm really not," she replied with a slight pout. Releasing him, she stepped back, and suddenly he was dressed in his pajamas. The ones he had actually been thinking of. "Now, please go to bed. You only have four hours before you need to get up. I believe that you have a session with Athena this morning, as well, and if you're not fit, she will be _most_ put out."

Harry pouted slightly.

"That is the consequence of partying too late," Hestia stated, not in the least sorry for him. "It's a lesson you must learn if you want to behave like an adult. Stay out too late and the next day – or in this case, the same day – will be miserable."

Harry nodded, understanding the lesson she was imparting. "Thanks, Hestia," he whispered softly. "Good night."

"Good night, Harry," she said gently, smiling faintly, as the demigod dragged himself to his bed.

0000

Harry cautiously pushed open the doors to Athena's temple. He had slept the four hours or so before he had to get up and make breakfast, and didn't feel too well. He hadn't drunk enough to have a hangover, but he had slept few enough hours to feel miserable.

Not even the very strong cup of coffee he had brewed to wake him up had helped. In fact, it had made things worse, as he now felt both exhausted _and_ jittery, if that were even possible.

"Hi, Miss Athena!" the demigod said politely to the empty temple.

Suddenly, the Goddess of Wisdom in question, at her full three-meter height, was right in front of him. "Harry," she stated, eyeing him. "I see you are exhausted."

Knowing better than to deny it, he answered, with a faint blush and some embarrassment, "I got invited to the maths party Hermes and his friends have every month or two or so, and it got a bit later than I expected."

Athena quirked one eyebrow in an impressive manner. "A _what _party?" she asked, as if she had misheard him.

"A maths party," the demigod repeated.

"I did not see Hermes, nor any of his usual friends, be interested in the sciences," the Goddess of Wisdom stated. "What was the contents of this maths party?"

Harry offered a faint smile. "We made a study on the execution of various nondeterministic algorithms," he repeated, somehow able to drag up the latest excuse and not flubbing its pronunciation despite his exhaustion.

Athena stared at him for ten long seconds, before one side of her lip quirked up, and a strange shine entered her eyes. "That sounds like games of chance," she said, her voice having a strange lilt of amusement in it.

Harry shrugged one shoulder, as if trying to downplay it. "There was lots of nondeterministic probability involved," he explained.

The quirk grew slightly. "I see. I hope you at least were successful?"

Harry nodded. "More successful than the others," he answered easily.

"Good," the Goddess of Wisdom stated, before studying him for a few moments. "It appears you are having quite a few appointments, to the point where one appointment interferes with another."

Harry looked uncomfortable again, not knowing where this was going.

"Perhaps a vacation is on order," she then said. "Everyone needs a break sometimes, and not taking one can be deleterious to your performance."

The young demigod thought about that for a few moments, then nodded thoughtfully. He spent time with quite a few gods, and Ares jumped him every now and again, so maybe some time away _would _be a good idea.

"Now, as you seem tired," Athena went on as if she hadn't just given him some very good personal advice, "I know an excellent exercise to the get the blood pumping. We shall begin with an exercise in predictive combat. Follow me."

Harry had no time to even reply as the goddess turned and walked off, forcing him to set in a sprint to catch up to her long strides. He frowned slightly at the 'predict the dummy' exercise he was going to have to do, but at least she wasn't upset with him. She'd even helped him, which wasn't at all a usual occurrence for her.

They arrived at the special hall attached to the library where the sparring dummies were kept. Without speaking, Athena set one out, stepped to one side, and then watched him without speaking.

Understanding the unspoken request, Harry stepped up to the dummy, drew a breath, and prepared himself for several rounds of _predict the dummy_.

He studied it and its stance for several moments.

"I will go in, and sweep its feet," the demigod said. "It will jump up, attempting to make me miss and it will punch at my head at the same time. I will dodge underneath, and land a two-handed strike on its stomach. It will land on its feet, but be out of position due to my strike. It will try a wild haymaker to cover for it attempting to recover its balance. I will block using my left arm, and simultaneously strike with my right hand at its face. Still out of position, it will stumble back, completely open. I will exploit the opening by landing an uppercut, knocking it out."

Athena gave a nod. "You may execute," she stated.

Harry stepped in, and tried to sweep the feet from under the dummy. It jumped up, attempting a punch at his head. Harry dodged low, and landed a two-handed strike on the dummy's stomach. The dummy got its legs under itself before hitting the floor, and attempted a wild haymaker. Harry blocked it with his left arm, and landed a devastating shot to the dummy's face with his right. The dummy stumbled back, and Harry landed an uppercut through its defenses, right on its chin.

The dummy landed flat on its back, and froze.

"Good," Athena said. "You are improving rapidly." She motioned, and the dummy stood up. "Again."

Harry noticed its stance, and swallowed. Something felt off. His instincts – his _probability senses_, or whatever his mother wanted to call them – warned him.

He studied it for a few moments. "This one is going to fight back," he said. Athena didn't reply, and just watched him. He knew she wouldn't give anything away, but a twitch of her eyes or lips in confirmation would have been great.

"It will charge, and aim a strike at the junction of my neck on the right side with a karate strike. I will block using my right hand, making it miss. It will immediately try and sweep my legs, I will move in closer to take the sweep on my thigh instead of my lower legs. I will jab it in the face with my left hand, momentarily stunning it, before punching it in the throat with my right hand, which should put it out," he said, before frowning. It didn't feel like he had it right.

Athena simply gave another nod. "You may execute," she said.

The dummy charged Harry, and aimed an open-handed karate strike at the junction of his right shoulder and his neck. Harry blocked it, the dummy tried to sweep him so he stepped in to take the sweep on his thigh. Harry aimed a jab at the dummy's face with his left hand; the dummy blocked it and used its recovered right hand to aim a strike at Harry's abdomen, causing him to _stop thinking_ and to _start doing_ instead.

Since they were fighting in very close quarters, which limited to range of motion, Harry both stepped back and blocked the strike to his abdomen, before attempting a kick at the dummy's leg.

The dummy dodged back, causing the kick to miss, before springing forward and grappling the demigod to the ground. Harry landed on his back, instincts urging him on to immediately roll, allowing him to land with his knee in the dummy's stomach.

This broke the hold it had on him. Harry punched it in the face with his right hand, then his left, before grabbing the dummy's head and smacking it firmly into the ground. It was still moving, and Harry struck the dummy's nose with the hell of his right hand, a killing blow under ordinary circumstances. The dummy went still and froze.

"You went off course, yet recovered to achieve victory," Athena said. "Which is, in most circumstances, all one has to do." She circled both the panting demigod and the prone dummy, and asked her next question. "Where did you go wrong?"

Harry recovered his breath and stood up. "I believed I had found an opening, and based my strategy off of that," he said. "I wasn't expecting it to be able to block that shot. I'm grateful I was able to recover in time, though. It could have had me."

"Yeees," Athena said, drawing the word out. "And now we know what to work on. Strategies may fail; it is how you cope with failing strategies that is important. In this case, you were able to recover. Next time, it may be in actual combat and you may not be so lucky."

"Yes, Miss Athena," Harry answered her. This was going to be a long morning, he just knew it.

0000

Harry stumbled back into Helios' temple, feeling wrung out and hung out to dry. Athena was relentless when she got going, but as always, he was grateful for the lesson. After playing predict the dummy, interspersed with theory lessons on reading an opponent, they had gone back to the book learning.

He'd been grateful for the respite, but that hadn't lasted long as the Goddess of Wisdom then started cramming knowledge into his skull. As always, Athena knew just how far to push him to be just outside of his comfort zone, yet not make the challenges impossibly or frustratingly hard. Just enough to make him work for it, not enough to make him quit, in other words.

By the time she released him, he felt like he duly needed that vacation she had recommended him.

"Hi Mister Helios," he said as he walked passed the statue. "Miss Athena is a harsh taskmaster," he confided to the faded Titan-God.

Helios' presence wrapped around him for a moment and it made Harry feel somewhat better.

"I'll have lunch for us in a moment," he promised, and went into the kitchen to start cooking. He loved cooking, and despite how tired he felt, he didn't want to rely on summoning food too often. It was a shortcut, and he didn't want to become dependent on it.

Besides, it may be just in his mind, but he honestly believed that food he cooked himself just plain tasted better.

"You seem rather disheveled," Hestia said, emerging into the kitchen with a faint smile of amusement on her lips. "Hard lesson with Athena?" she asked, giving him a hug.

Harry hugged her back, tightly, and nodded. "Every lesson with Miss Athena is hard," he answered honestly. "But then, she probably has to be hard."

"Oh? What makes you say that?" Hestia asked, releasing him and taking a seat at the table.

"Everybody else goes to school," Harry replied. "And even after hours of school, they still have homework, and they need to revise for tests and such. Instead, I have a session or so a week with Miss Athena, and she has to drill all that knowledge into me in those couple of sessions. Oh, and the books she tells me to read before the next session."

"And yet, you keep up," Hestia said with an approving smile.

Harry nodded uncertainly. "I hope so. Miss Athena rarely tells me I did well, so I don't always know if I'm keeping up or if she has to slow down or something."

Hestia looked amused. "Did Athena ever tell you that you didn't do well?"

The young demigod shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Looked at me like she was disappointed in me, yes, but she never outright told me I didn't do well."

"She looks at everyone that way, Harry, don't pay it any attention," the Goddess of the Hearth said with a small laugh. "I can tell you that Athena isn't one to mince words. If you fail to meet expectations, she will inform you. At length. She will then ensure you _meet_ those expectations."

"Oh," Harry said, suddenly feeling better.

"Yes," Hestia agreed, laughing softly. "If Athena doesn't berate you, you're doing well, and you're on track."

"She did say something else, though," the young boy confided. "She said that I am working very hard, and that I have lots of training from different gods, and she suggested that I take a vacation or something to rest up. That sounded like a really good idea."

"Athena's ideas usually are," Hestia agreed, smiling. "What did you have in mind?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure; I never really had a vacation."

Hestia looked at him sadly, remembering his past and hoping those horrid people were still suffering from her curse. "Perhaps we can look at it differently. What do you especially like doing? Or a place you'd like to visit?"

Harry thought for a moment, and then smiled.


	25. Chapter 25

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 25**

Hestia had taken some convincing, but in the end had merely insisted that he be careful. He waved at the fire in the hearth, watched it turn green, and then asked it if it were good for him to come through.

"We're a tad busy with some cyclopes, but as long as you don't make trouble, it's fine," Celyn told him, and Harry grinned.

He stepped through. "Thanks, Miss Celyn," he told the Hunter. "I just need a few minutes of Artie's time, whenever she can spare some."

Celyn seemed to debate the issue for a few moments, then shrugged. "If the Lady doesn't want to see you, she'll kick you out herself," the Hunter answered. "You know where it is."

Harry grinned and thanked her, then went in search of Artie's tent. As he walked, he noticed the increased activity in the Hunter's camp; Hunters ran back and forth, carrying supplies, weapons, or other equipment. The large wolves that usually guarded the outer edges of the camp now seemed to patrol inside of it as well.

In fact, one of them had sat itself down in front of Harry and refused to let him further. "I'm here to see Artie," he told the animal.

The wolf still did not move, and seemed content to watch him for any threatening moves.

Knowing that making a threatening move towards a huge wolf was a one-way ticket to the infirmary – or the afterlife – Harry simply sat down as well.

The wolf cocked its head. The young boy, continuing to maintain eye contact, slowly extended one hand. "I come in peace," he told the wolf, ignoring the snickering that came from one Hunter that passed by. The wolf didn't even spare the girl a glance, preferring to maintain staring at Harry.

The wolf sniffed the extended hand.

"I mean no harm, I'm just here to see Artie for a few minutes," he repeated.

The wolf seemed to sneeze after scenting Harry's hand, but an invisible relaxation appeared to seep through the animal's body, as if a tension was being released.

It stood up, and when Harry just sat there, staring at it, the massive wolf ambled over and nudged him with its nose, as if asking what was keeping him.

Grinning, Harry stood up. "You're escorting me?" he asked the wolf, who trudged away and looked over its shoulder, once more asking what was keeping him.

He ambled after the massive creature, who indeed guided him to Artie's tent, then plonked itself down next to the tent's entrance, and stared at Harry once more.

Harry couldn't resist, and petted the wolf on the head and behind its ears. For a moment, the massive wolf looked like an oversized dog, its tongue coming out of its mouth with happy panting and its tail wagged. Then, it seemed to realize that it _wasn't supposed to like_ him petting and scratching it where it _felt so very good_.

The wolf stared at him, seemingly embarrassed with its slip. Harry just laughed. "It'll be our secret," he told the massive beast.

Straightening up, the boy scratched the tent's flap, requesting entrance.

No sounds come from inside, but that didn't mean anything. Artie could have silenced her entrance for some reason.

So, Harry waited. While he did so, he sat down next to the wolf. His hand crept up and scratched it behind its ears.

Five minutes later, the tent's flap was pulled back, and Artie had to stifle a laugh at the sight of one of her guardian wolves, flat on its back, its massive paws in the air, panting happily, as Harry rubbed its belly.

"Who's a good wolf?" Harry cooed. "You are! Yes, you are!" he added, while vigorously rubbing the wolf's belly.

"Harry," Artie said, trying and failing to sound stern.

"Hey Artie!" Harry greeted back, standing up and giving his second-favorite goddess a hug. The wolf, seeing its goddess, hurriedly rolled over and pretended it had been sitting guard in front of her tent.

"Subverting my guardians?" she asked as she pulled back the flap and motioning for him to step inside.

The young demigod chuckled. "I was coming to see you, but the wolf wouldn't let me passed until I proved myself, I think. Of course, then I had to pet it. Then scratch it behind the ears. And then I had to wait a bit, so… yeah…"

The Goddess of the Hunt shook her head. "Very few males survive contact with my guardian wolves," she said. "Either she was just playing, or she must have really taken a shine to you."

Harry grinned. "She's pretty awesome, so the feeling's mutual," he said.

The Goddess of the Hunt let out a smell laugh, and sat down in her usual chair. "I didn't know that you had a training scheduled," she said.

Harry took a seat in a visitor's chair, before shaking his head. "I actually came to ask a small favor," he said softly.

"A favor?" Artie asked, sharp eyes gazing at him. "What kind of favor?"

Harry offered a hopeful smile. "I was hoping you'd let me borrow a backpack."

"A pack," Artie confirmed, sharp gaze not letting up. "Can I ask what for?"

"Miss Athena has said that I have too many appointments with too many different people, and that I'm not getting enough rest and all that. She suggested that I take a vacation, so I was kinda sorta maybe potentially hoping that you'd let me borrow a backpack so I can go camping. Since it's not a test, I can take food and take the time to enjoy walking in the woods and stuff," the young demigod explained, practically rushing everything out in a single breath.

"Camping," Artie replied. She sat back and leaned into her chair. "That's indeed a small favor," she added. "However, Harry, you are nine. When you go out on these survival challenges, you have Zoë with you to protect you, keep you safe, or take care of you in case something happens. You're a bit young to go camping by yourself."

Harry's hopeful smile turned a tad brittle. "Hestia said similar things, but I was able to convince her. She just told me to be careful and to take care."

"Hmm," Artie hemmed. "Still, I think you are rather young to go out by yourself."

Harry's smile turned into a grin. "Maybe I could also borrow a wolf or two," he offered.

The Goddess of the Hunt shot him an amused smile. "Unfortunately, we are hunting a dangerous pack of cyclopes so I need them all here to protect the camp. I'd also state that they only listen to myself or to my Hunters, but you seem to have found a way around that."

Harry chuckled and looked at the tent's entrance. "Maybe she's only nice because I was let into camp," he offered as a consolation.

"Maybe," Artie answered.

"If I can't borrow a wolf or two, maybe you'll let me borrow Miss Zoë?" Harry asked, hopefully. Spending a weekend with Zoë in the woods seemed like fun, especially if he didn't have to hunt or fish or build a shelter.

The Goddess of Maidens looked like she couldn't decide between being amused and being offended. "_Borrow_ my Lieutenant as if she were property? Really Harry?" she asked, voice as halfway between offended and amused as she looked.

Harry pouted. "You know what I meant, Artie, I didn't mean it that way."

Artie maintained a stern glare for several seconds before relaxing. "Indeed I do, and that is the only reason you are now not a jackalope," the goddess stated. "Again, as with the wolves, we're hunting dangerous cyclopes so Zoë is needed."

Harry pouted deeper.

Artie drummed her fingers. "Aunt Hestia agreed to this?" she then asked.

The young boy nodded. "I just have to keep out of trouble, she said," he answered.

"I want you to make me a promise," Artie said. "Should you have a problem. _Any_ problem. I want you to pray to me. I do not want a repeat of Aunt Hestia angry with myself or my Lieutenant, so the moment something happens, I want you to pray to me. Do you promise?"

Harry nodded. He could do that. Part of him felt warmed by Artie obviously caring about him, even if she framed it as staying on Hestia's good side. He could understand staying on Hestia's good side; he wanted to stay there himself. "I promise to pray to you if I'm in trouble, Artie."

The Goddess eyed him for a few moment, as if judging his honesty. "Very well, I will let you borrow a reserve pack. I trust you will see to its return, properly packed and cared for?" she said, standing up.

The young demigod nodded eagerly. "Of course, Artie!"

"Good," she answered with a sharp nod, and stood up. "Let's go to the supply tent, you can grab a pack there. I always have extra." She stopped and looked at him. "A valuable lesson for when you find yourself leading others. Always bring extra of everything – items will always be lost, or damaged. Having extra will ensure nobody goes without. While I, as a goddess, can conjure things easily, there are times I am unavailable and my Hunters must be able to operate independently."

Harry nodded, that sounded like valuable advice. "How much extra?" he asked, as they left her tent.

"It depends from item to item," Artie explained. "Important individual items, like a compass, or a knife, it's good to have one in use and one in reserve. Larger items, less so. In the case of entire packs, I try to keep twenty-five to fifty percent extra, rather than one-on-one. You will need to balance reserves, however. Too many reserves will drain labor to maintain or move those reserves. It's a careful balancing act."

Harry nodded. He could understand that.

Artie pulled back the flap of the supply tent. "Here you go," the goddess said. "Take your pick." One of the Hunters glanced their way, and looked away after recognizing her patron deity. Harry understood why she'd accompanied him; without her presence, he probably would have been stopped by a Hunter.

Knowing that the packs were all identical, Harry grinned at Artie, and picked up the one nearest the entrance. "Thanks, Artie," he said, giving her a hug.

She hugged him back. "I should try and ensure good relations with one of the few decent males out there," she answered.

Harry grinned wider, and for a moment thought about teasing her about her liking him. Then he remembered that the other Hunters were nearby and that his joke would probably not go over as well as it would in private.

"I'll do my best to stay that way," he promised. "Hestia would be very disappointed in me if I didn't," he added as a second thought.

The Goddess of Maidens gave a small nod. "For as long as you model yourself after Aunt Hestia, we won't have problems," she replied, then narrowed her eyes in warning for should he change.

"Hestia's still the best goddess ever, so I definitely want to be like her," Harry answered, as if it were a vow. "And you're my second-favorite goddess, and I definitely want to remain your friend."

Artie gave him a sardonic grin, then seemed to recognize that time was fleeting. "I have to plan the attack on that clan of Cyclopes. Stupid man-eaters," she muttered under her breath. "I do think you have a vacation to start."

Harry grinned at her. "Sure," he said, recognizing that she was busy, and extremely grateful that she took the time to help him with his silly request. He gave her another, shorter, hug. "Thanks again, Artie. Good luck."

She nodded at him, and turned sharply. He followed her as she escorted him to the fire, ensuring once more than no Hunter stopped or questioned him. He walked through without issue, once more absurdly grateful to her for helping him.

0000

It was late October, and both the weather and the leaves had started to change. Harry loved this season, the forests displaying their most awesome colors for his enjoyment.

He'd gone to a secluded forest, and pitched his borrowed tent a five-minute walk uphill from a large lake. He'd brought enough food for the weekend, he didn't need to hunt or gather or trap for anything, and was determined to just enjoy the atmosphere of being on his own, by himself, in the tranquility of nature.

With the weather turning the cool of fall, Harry threw on a thicker jacket and reclined on the shores of the lake near his campsite. The Hunter's pack held fishing line, hooks, and some lures. With a thin branch, he improvised himself a fishing rod, and after casting out the line, he just leaned back and read a bit in one of the books he had brought. _The Mystery at Lilac Inn_ was the fourth book in the Nancy Drew set that Athena had gotten him for his birthday, and so far, he was enjoying them.

It was peaceful, just as he had imagined it would be.

So peaceful, in fact, that he didn't realize he hadn't managed to read passed the page he was on, and was halfway dozing instead.

"So, this is where thou art," a voice sounded, startling him back to reality.

"Wha-" he managed, nearly dropping his book but managing to catch it, and looking up at his unexpected visitor. "Miss Zoë?" he asked, frowning and looking at the tree line. "Where did you come from?" he wondered, still half-asleep.

The Hunter raised one eyebrow, and her lips quirked into a half-grin. "When a Titan and a Goddess desire offspring," she said, laughing at the candy-apple red glow that suddenly burned on Harry's cheeks.

"That wasn't funny," the young demigod pouted at her.

"'T was very funny. Thou needst to have thy funny bone examined," The Hunter replied.

Deciding that they needed a change of subject _right now_, Harry asked, "I meant, how did you get here?"

"I walked," Zoë explained with a smile.

"Right, super-secret Hunter skills," Harry added. "Which you won't teach me."

Zoë sat down next to him, and stared out over the lake. "Thou could accept My Lady's offer. Then thou could join the Hunters and learn those… super-secret Hunter skills," she answered.

Harry looked at her. "Only if she can change me back," he replied.

Zoë nodded. "I see. Thou would accept My Lady's offer, learn the ways of the Hunter, then abandon her. I thought better of thee."

The young boy looked aghast, not having considered that angle in the slightest and now suddenly extremely scared that he was going to lose two people he considered friends. "That wasn't what I was saying at all! That wasn't what I intended! Not at all!" He felt panic creep up on him. "Miss Zoë, it's not like that at all! I swear!"

Zoë looked surprised at what her joke had triggered, and held up a hand. "I know. I was teasing thee. I apologize, 't was not my intent to upset thee."

Harry let out a breath, feeling his heart calm down. "That wasn't funny. I'd never do something like that."

Zoë nodded again. "I know," she replied. "Again, 't was not my intention to upset thee so."

The young boy nodded softly, and looked out over the lake. "Artie said you were busy," he said, trying to say what he had wanted to say from the get-go.

"True. We are hunting a dangerous pack of man-eating Cyclopes. 'T will be a hard fight, likely. I decided to take a 15 minute break to check up on a certain student who I found out was out on his own."

Harry felt… he didn't know what he felt. Whatever it was, it felt _good _to know that Zoë cared enough to take out fifteen minutes before what was sure to be a tough fight to come and see him. "Thanks, Miss Zoë," he told her.

"I checked out thy camp," she said instead of acknowledging his thanks. "'T is well situated. I must ask what thou intend to do should thou not catch fish, however," she added, staring at the lake and his improvised fishing rod.

"I brought plenty of food for the weekend," Harry explained with a grin. "I just need to heat it up. I was fishing more for the sport and the relaxation than for food. If I catch something, I'll more than likely let it go anyway."

Zoë nodded. "That explains why thou art reading a book and with thy line cast into an empty lake."

Harry blinked. "Sorry?"

The Hunter looked amused. "That lake is empty of fish," she said, pointing to the waters.

For a moment, Harry wanted to ask, "are you sure", but then remembered who he was talking with. If anyone could tell, it would be a Hunter, and Zoë wouldn't play a trick on him by lying about something like that.

"Oh," the boy finally said, staring at the lake and his fishing rod. He shrugged. "Well, then I'll have plenty of time to read," he added with a sort of fatalistic acceptance.

Zoë laughed under her breath. "True," she said, standing up. "I must return. My Lady told me of thy promise. Please remember to keep to it. 'T would be a hassle to find another decent male and train him up."

Harry grinned up at her, knowing that she was simply trying to save face. "Thanks, Miss Zoë. I'll remember."

"Good," Zoë said. "Time for me to rejoin my sisters." For a moment, she looked down at him; as if preparing to say something else, but then he saw her straighten up. "Thou found a good spot for relaxation," she spoke.

Whatever Harry had thought that she wanted to say, he was sure that a compliment on his vacation spot wasn't it. The Hunter gave him one final nod, then turned and walked to the tree line. Within moments, she was gone.

Grinning, Harry leaned back. It felt good to know Zoë cared, even if she disguised it with excuses. He knew he liked her for a reason.

Apollo's sun had started to creep towards the top of the trees, and Harry knew he would not have long before darkness fell. It always fell quickly and absolutely in a forest, and he didn't want to be caught away from his camp when it did.

Packing up his useless fishing rod and ensuring his fishing line wouldn't get tangled, he made the relaxing trek through the woods back to his camp, where he packed his fishing things away and started setting himself up for the evening.

Three long and sturdy branches made a good tripod, from which he dangled a cooking pot. Once more he was glad that a Hunter's pack had all the basic necessities, and that it had enough space for him to cram in plenty of Tupperware containers with food.

Ensuring that the tripod construction was stable and strong, even with the cooking pot tied to it, he set out to gather enough firewood for the evening.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon and the woods came alive with the life of the night, Harry had a nice fire going and opened one of his Tupperware containers. After dumping its contents into the cooking pot, he set the container to one side, ready for it to be washed in the lake the next day.

He gently stirred the one-pan meal to ensure it didn't burn, and looked up at the skies. A hundred thousand million stars twinkled merrily at him, and Harry grinned up at the skies. He wished he knew the constellations.

He served himself food, and ate while staring up. He knew that people once navigated using the stars, and wondered how they did so. He missed having Zoë around to ask, she more than likely knew how to do it. Heck, she was probably around when people still used stars for navigation.

His food eaten, he put his dishes with the Tupperware container; he'd wash them all tomorrow. Artie would be extremely cross with him if he left any trash behind so he had made sure that everything he brought was re-usable. As Goddess of the Hunt, she didn't mind people building a shelter or hunting or fishing for food, but she had a clear and firm opinion on littering.

Cleanup done, he grabbed a small container and lifted its lid. Grinning, he dug into the chocolate pudding he'd made himself. It tasted even better out here than when he'd made it. Maybe it was the environment, he usually found things tasted differently when out in the woods.

0000

The next morning, Harry stowed away the cleaned Tupperware containers, and stood the freshly cleaned cooking pot in its spot. He'd had a good breakfast before trudging down to the lake for his cleaning tasks, and now found himself with a few hours to kill before lunch.

A nice, long, walk was just what he needed, the demigod decided.

He took two steps towards the nearest tree line, then reconsidered. He turned and walked to the pack instead, and lifted out a container of spaghetti bolognese. He could eat that cold, if he got hungry, and stuffed the container in a pocket of his thick coat. After grabbing knife and fork, and stuffing them into an inner pocket, he set out.

He didn't know when he would be back, only that he would be gone for a while.

His feet walked on their own, pulling him through the woods. Meanwhile, as Zoë and Artie had taught him, he kept an eye out for landmarks and orientation points so he could find his way back.

He could do the trick with the stones, moving a stone from one pocket to another every x steps and use that to pace distance, but this was a vacation and not a combat patrol. He just wanted a nice long walk in the woods.

As he walked, he felt his instincts nudge him.

Instead of following the nudge, he stopped. Frowning softly, Harry pondered on what to do. His instincts wanted him to go somewhere, that could be either good or bad. He remembered what happened with the Athena Parthenos; that had been _both_ good and bad.

He closed his eyes and focused.

His instincts gave him another nudge. Same direction.

The young demigod sighed. He couldn't even properly go on vacation, it seemed.

Oh well.

He took the nudge and followed its direction. His instincts vanished, the little nudge disappearing without a trace. As Harry kept walking, he almost forgot about the whole episode. He encountered nothing but wide nature, babbling brooks, wind rustling through autumn leaves.

It was perfect and it was relaxing. After several hours worth of walking, he sat down underneath a tree, on the shore of a small river, and ate his spaghetti lunch. It was peaceful, and Harry completely forgot about the nudge his instincts had given him.

Cleaning his utensils and the container in the cold river, Harry pondered whether to return or to keep going.

Judging from the sun shining through the trees, it was around noon so he had plenty of daylight left. He decided on pushing just a little further before starting his trek back to camp.

As he straightened up, something rustled off to his side.

He came face to face with a deer, the animal looking as surprised to see him as he was to see it. For ten long seconds, deer and demigod looked each other in the eye before the animal seemed to blink and rush away.

Harry grinned; that was the closest he'd ever come to an actual wild deer, rather than one of Artie's pets. This was turning out to be an awesome trip, he'd have to do something really nice for Athena when he got back. This was a great suggestion. He was thinking – butterscotch cake. Something told him that Athena would really like that.

Deciding on following the steps of the deer, Harry used the training he'd received to follow the animal's tracks. Maybe he'd get to see it again!

As he did, he heard noises in the distance. Surprised at hearing noise this deep in the forest, Harry picked up his pace, yet made sure not to miss any clues as to where the deer had gone. He didn't want to lose its trail.

Suddenly, the forest gave way to grassland, as if some giant hand had drawn a line to delineate it.

Harry froze solid, and stared.

The deer he had been following was on the ground, already partially eaten.

Eaten by a giant lion. A giant lion that was probably as big as an SUV, if not larger. It was probably the size of a large pick-up truck.

Said lion was staring at him, obviously as surprised to see _him_ as _he_ was to see _it_. Harry's frozen mind unfroze, remembering Marduk reinstating the protection against monsters finding him. It was probably why that deer had been as surprised to see him, too.

It was a gorgeous lion, though. Its coat was shining gold in the sun's rays, and its claws were radiant silver.

Then the lion unfroze, roared loudly, and charged.

Harry eep-ed loudly, threw himself to one side, and rolled thrice before getting his feet back under him, powering up on his legs, and making a sprint for it.

The lion had swiped through where he had been standing, and a tree fell to the ground, its trunk perfectly cut by the lion's preternaturally sharp claws.

"Holy crap," Harry cursed at the sight. The lion sprung at him again, and instincts forced him to drop to the ground, barely managing to dodge underneath the lion's charging swipe.

With the huge monster landing on his other side, Harry's fingers traced the ring holding Hestia's lasso and the one holding Athena's shield.

Now holding a shield to protect himself with and a lasso to defend himself with, Harry once more got to hit feet.

The lion roared, again, and swiped at the demigod. Harry ducked behind his shield, catching the lion's claws on the Celestial Bronze.

He heard its nails screech as they clawed the shield, and he hoped Athena wouldn't be upset at him getting scratches on it.

Thankfully, Athena had insisted on him getting a solid grounding in Greek Monsters of all kinds, and the Nemean Lion had featured prominently in the list.

Its skin was impregnable, its teeth and claws were preternaturally sharp and were the only things that could penetrate its skin, and only its eyes or the inside of its mouth were vulnerable to weapons.

Oh, and Hercules had once defeated it by choking it.

Harry grinned as a plan formed. The Nemean Lion took another swipe at his shield, once more generating screeching noises that made Harry shudder. He didn't know how much longer his shield would hold out.

He looked at the lasso. "Your turn," he whispered to it, and threw its loop, blindly, while crouching behind his shield.

The golden weapon glowed brightly and flew true. Harry felt it settle, and yanked _hard_.

The lion made a strange sort of gurgling noise, and Harry was suddenly yanked off his feet. With the shield still attached to his arm, he suddenly found himself being pulled around by a trashing Nemean Lion, desperately trying to get the loop of Hestia's Lasso from around its neck.

With his eyes wide open in panic, Harry tried to brace himself. Unfortunately for him, a nine-year-old demigod wasn't very heavy compared to a pick-up truck-sized Nemean Lion, even if said Nemean Lion was being choked by the Lasso of Hestia.

Finally, the huge lion sunk to its belly, before falling on its side. It struggled for breath, making strange whiny noises.

Harry approached carefully, remembering the lesson of the Hydra, and made sure to maintain the pressure on the Lasso, hanging just about his full body weight on it. Staying far out of range of its teeth or claws, Harry studied the magnificent cat.

The lion choked for another breath. Its eyes met Harry's.

Was it his imagination, or was there a pleading expression in those eyes?

Immediately, Harry felt sorry for the beast. But still, the lesson of the Hydra stuck. "You're just going to attack me again if I release you," he told the lion.

Was it his imagination, or did the lion shake its head? It choked for another breath, struggling and failing to get any air. The Lasso did what it could to enhance Harry's strength, but there was only so much it could do.

Harry felt really bad for the slow strangulation that he was subjecting the lion to, but this really was the limit of his combined ability with the Lasso.

"Do you surrender?" he asked.

It wasn't his imagination. The Nemean Lion had _nodded_ at him.

"I'll be very upset if you attack me anyway," he told the monster, but then remembered that Hestia's Lasso _compelled the truth_. If the Lion nodded its surrender while tied by it, then that was what it was going to do.

He released the pressure on the Lasso, felt it release the lion's throat.

The huge cat gulped a deep breath.

Then it gulped another.

And then… it stood up.

Hestia's lasso was still dangling around its neck, Harry thought. All he had to do was yank on it again. The lion eyed him. He eyed the lion.

Two adversaries, staring at each other, neither willing to make the first move.

The huge lion seemed to come to a decision, and sunk down to the ground. Then it rolled on to its side, and bared its neck.

Harry didn't know a lot about large cats, but he knew a sign of surrender when he saw one. The lasso was still around its neck; the lion was compelled to the truth.

He approached, softly, hesitantly, then touched it. The lion did not move, and Harry felt its body heat, the rapid beating of its mighty heart, and the movement of its breathing.

And strangely enough, that metallic golden fur was incredibly soft. He rubbed it, as one would pet a cat.

The huge lion generated a strange noise, a sort of low and soft, gurgling, rolling growl.

Then he realized that the large cat was _purring_.

Grinning, Harry looked up at the lion's face. Its eyes were half-closed, and it had relaxed its sign of surrender.

Standing up, Harry walked to the lion's face, it being large enough that actual walking was required.

"Now what do we do?" Harry asked. "You're magnificent, but you're also a monster. And you eat people and demigods." He looked at the deer carcass. "Eating animals is fine, but I don't like the idea of you eating humans because I let you go."

The lion stared at him for a moment, then rolled back to its feet. Harry took a few steps back, his hand automatically clenching the end of Hestia's Lasso. If that lion made any false moves, he was going to yank for all that he was worth.

The lion eyed him for a moment, as if making a decision.

Then it coughed strangely.

And shrunk.

And shrunk further.

Harry blinked when he was suddenly holding Hestia's lasso like a leash for an animal that, for all intents and purposes, looked like a golden-furred house cat.

The Nemean House Cat purred disarmingly, cocking its head in an effort to appear harmless.

"Doesn't that beat all?" Harry wondered to himself, as he approached the cat. Petting it produced a regular purr, making him grin. "I'll need to ask helios if it's alright if I keep a pet cat," he told the cat.

The cat purred harder.

"I just hope nobody gets upset," Harry muttered, half to himself. "Hestia asked me to stay out of trouble, and I'm not sure fi this counts..." then he trailed off, remembering the promise he made to Artie.

He closed his eyes, and prayed to her. _Hi Artie, it's Harry. I ran into the Nemean Lion, but don't worry, I handled him. __I just wanted to let you know because of my promise and all._

He hoped it would reassure her. The last thing he wanted was to upset or scare her.

"Come on, let's get back to my camp," he told the cat. It studied him for a moment, then got up and came to sit by his feet, looking up at him as if saying 'now what?'.

The young demigod grinned down at the feline. "This way," Harry said, taking a quick look to orient himself and find the place where he had exited the forest.

Just as they were about to disappear among the trees, the Nemean Cat seemed to halt. Harry stopped as well, and looked at it.

"What's wrong?"

The cat gave out a small growl and stared in the direction of the deer. Immediately, Harry put two and two together. "You're still hungry," he said. "Let's get you fed."

He walked towards the carcass, Hestia's Lasso serving as a pretty good leash around the monster's neck. Harry may have trusted the cat, that didn't mean he was going to be stupid about it.

As they approached, the Nemean House Cat turned into the Nemean Lion, giving Harry a start, right before the monster threw itself upon its kill and cleaned off the carcass at a pace that gave Harry a stomach ache just from watching it.

Within minutes, the Lion sat back, lickings its chops clean, before shrinking back into a cat.

"Ready?" Harry asked.

The cat, still licking it chops clean of blood, gave him the kind of imperious look that cats the world over seemed to be granted at birth. The kind of look that said, "We, Nemean Lion, declare you are now Our Human".

Harry chuckled. "Let's go, then," he said, once more setting out for the edge of the forest. The cat got up obediently and started to follow.

Suddenly, it flattened its ears, and let out a 'mreow' that sounded as a warning.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, seeing his cat agitated and… afraid? Was the Nemean lion afraid of something?

Harry eyed the tree line warily.

The cat seemed to ready itself to either charge or flee. Harry raised his shield, and prepared himself.

Suddenly, from the woods, strode six girls dressed in silver.

Harry sighed with relief. "That's Artie and some of her Hunters," he told the Nemean Cat. "They're cool."

The Goddess of the Hunt, flanked by half a dozen Hunters, strode over towards him. "Harry," she stated.

"Hi Artie!" Harry greeted back, smiling widely. "I told you I had it," he added, pouting.

Artie, meanwhile, just kept staring at the cat, still tied by Hestia's Lasso. "The Nemean Lion is one of the most vicious monsters out there. It is nearly invulnerable, strong, fast, and extremely intelligent."

Harry nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but Artie beat him to it.

"And you seem to have tamed it," she added.

Harry grinned. The Hunters were clearly shocked. Zoë was shaking her head, Celyn was grinning widely, and Phoebe looked like she had eaten a lemon. She always had disliked him for some reason. The other three were Hunters he knew by sight but not by name, but they seemed to be staring from the cat to him and back to the cat continuously.

Artie let out a strangled laugh, and covered her face with her hand. "Only you, Harry, could walk into the woods on a camping trip, come across one of the most vicious monsters in the world – and tame it."

The Nemean Cat growled. It was plenty wild, thank you very much! Artie eyed it. It flattened its ears and grew to full Lion size.

Some of the Hunters squeaked, immediately followed by a blush when Artie gave them a less than impressed look.

"No!" Harry told the Nemean Lion. "Artie and her Hunters are _not_ for eating!" he yelled at it.

It growled. Harry lifted an eyebrow and gave a soft yank on Hestia's Lasso. It growled deeper.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I told you not to eat anyone," the young demigod lectured the lion the size of a truck. "Now shrink back."

The Lion eyed him, and seemed to ready itself to pounce. His instincts flared, and he realized that the Lion was trying to assert dominance; it had submitted to him earlier, but now was sensing weakness and trying to exploit it. He couldn't have _that_. For a moment, he wondered how another lion would react. Then he had it; his instincts telling him it was the right course of action.

Harry shifted the Lasso to his left hand and slapped the Lion's nose with a rolled-up newspaper.

The Nemean Lion yelped with shock, dropped down, and covered its sensitive nose with its front paws, staring balefully at Harry, shocked at being hit. "Bad cat!" Harry told it. "Very bad cat! No eating people!"

The Lion sighed and shrunk back into cat form, before rolling onto its back and attempting the 'I'm an innocent little kitty, don't hurt me' look. Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Fine, that's better," he said.

Then he frowned. Where did that newspaper came from? He looked at it, still clutched in his hand. Unrolling it, he burst out laughing.

"That was probably the scariest and most incredible thing I have ever seen a nine-year-old mortal do," Artie said, stepping up to his shoulder. "You are aware that it was more likely to eat you than to submit to you, right?"

Harry shrugged. "He was being a bad cat, and trying to assert dominance," he replied. "Another lion would have swiped at him with its claws, so I used an equivalent."

The Nemean Cat had huge kitten-eyes and pretended to be a harmless cat.

"It was most extraordinary thing I have ever seen," Artie said, shaking her head. She turned to Harry. "What had you laughing?"

Harry gave another chuckle and handed her the paper. The _Conjured Times_ had a single headline: _Harry Potter Conjures Newspaper!_ The article itself was filled with repeated lines of 'article text goes here, blah, blah, blah'.

She laughed. "I was wondering where that paper came from," the Goddess of the Hunt admitted.

"I must have conjured it subconsciously. I will have to tell Marduk, he'll get a kick out of it," the young demigod replied, letting the solid illusion of a newspaper dissipate.

He felt someone step up to his other side, and looked up at Zoë. The Hunter was staring at the Nemean Cat, still trying to appear perfectly harmless.

"Thou art the most unusual demigod," she told him. "This is something I could only imagine thou doing. Most would simply kill the beast for its spoil."

"I'll have to ask Mister Helios if I can keep a cat," Harry said, not knowing how to reply to that.

"Thou art planning on keeping it, then?" Zoë asked, surprised.

"I imagine, if I give him a home, food, drink, and a litter box, he's not going to be hunting people, you know?" Harry offered. "And besides, he'll make a great guard cat."

The Nemean House Cat puffed itself up. In return for an easy life, it could play guard lion if requested.

Artie snorted a laugh. "Harry, unless you're planning on scaring off armies, using him as a guard cat will be overkill."

Harry thought back on the two guards that had dragged him before Zeus, and wondered if anyone would try and do the same with the Nemean Lion around to protect him.

"Thou hast an evil smile," Zoë noted. "I believe I do not wish to be on the receiving end of it."

Artie chuckled. "Agreed." She shook her head. "I grabbed some Hunters and raced over in the hopes of rescuing you from the Lion. Instead, I find that you have tamed the beast."

Harry grinned, and knelt down, petting the Nemean Cat. "He's going to be a good kitty now, right?" he asked the cat in a coo. "Yes, you will! Yes, you will!" he cooed more while rubbing its tummy, causing the cat to start purring loudly.

"Most incredible," Zoë muttered.

"Indeed," Artie said. "Harry, we must depart. Those Cyclopes will not exterminate themselves. Please remember to pray to me should you have… trouble… with your new… pet?" her voice raised into a question at the end.

"He's a good kitty now," Harry said, actually picking the cat up and cradling it. The Nemean Cat looked like it didn't know whether it liked being carried or not.

"So I see," Artie muttered, not convinced. "We must depart. Harry. Good luck."

"Thanks, Artie!" Harry said, laughing. The Nemean Cat seemed to have gathered its dignity and was now seated in Harry's arms like an emperor on an open sedan chair. It held the sort of arrogant look that cats were so good at, the kind of look that said, _We, Nemean Lion, hereby do declare that this is a most acceptable mode of transport for Us._

The Goddess of the Hunt threw one last warning look at the imperious-looking feline, before nodding to her Hunters and disappearing with them in the tree line.

"Hestia is not going to like it either," he said while looking at his golden-furred passenger. The cat turned its head to look back at him. "She told me to be careful and stay out of trouble."

The feline had a look of cat-like amusement.

"Yeah, that didn't work out so well," Harry muttered. He looked up at the skies for a moment, then said, "Mom, this gift of yours can be quite a pain. Just so you know."

There was no response, of course. Nor did he expect one. Instead, he oriented himself and started walking, tracking the deer's tracks back to the brook, then turning on his path back to his camp.

The Nemean Cat was a large one; not so large as to make people doubt it was a cat, but larger than most house cats. After a while, it started to get really heavy for a nine-year-old, even a nine-year-old demigod with advanced training.

"Come on," Harry said, stooping down. "Walking time."

His new pet seemed to have been enjoying the ride, but starting walking nonetheless. The Lasso of Hestia was still draped around its neck, with Harry holding the end.

It tugged on the leash, shooting the boy a questioning look.

Harry looked down, not breaking his stride. "If I release you from the Lasso, you'll try and attack me again."

The Nemean House Cat looked like it wanted to shake its head no, but was forced to nod yes by the Lasso.

"Nifty Lasso, isn't it?"

The cat didn't need the Lasso's encouragement to nod yes. Although it did look grumpy while doing so.

"Don't worry," Harry said as they continued their trek through the forest. "You'll see I'm not a bad guy. You'll like me and will want to stay with me. No more attacks by demigods, no more trying to figure out where your next meal will come from, always a warm roof over your head, and you can sleep as much as you want."

The cat looked really interested now, all cats loved sleeping. Harry laughed softly and leaned down to give the cat a pet. "After all, there's a reason other cats stay with humans, right? If we weren't so good at taking care of you, you would have overthrown us by now."

The cat nodded seriously.

Harry laughed at the Lasso not stopping it from nodding. Then he blinked. Did that mean cats actually could overthrow humans?

He felt worried now.

Deciding that he didn't really want to know, he focused on retracing his steps back to his camp. Using every trick Zoë and Artie had taught him – other than that annoying 'count your paces' trick using stones – he had very little difficulty to get back to familiar ground.

A few hours later, he sunk to the ground next to his fire pit, and threw some wood in it before rekindling the fire. The warmth of the fire felt wonderful after a long day trekking through the woods, fighting lions.

The Nemean House Cat plonked itself down next to him, its back firmly pressed against Harry's leg. The boy grinned down at it, and starting stroking the incredibly soft fur.

It started purring.

"You know," Harry said, "you need a name."

The cat gave him a look, then looked away, as if saying 'whatever'. The young demigod chuckled. "Nemmy," he decided.

The look he got from the cat was disdainful, to say the least. "You're the Nemean Lion, thus, Nemmy," he boy repeated.

The cat looked away again, with the casual motion of disdain that cats so often used. Harry chuckled, the Nemean Lion – well, Nemean House Cat, now – seemed to be excellent at being a regular cat.

Noticing that the fire was burning nice and hot now, Harry stood up. Nemmy looked up at him, as if wondering why his human was no longer petting him. "I'm going to go ask Mister Helios if it's alright if I keep a cat," he told the animal while tying Hestia's Lasso to a nearby tree. In response, the Lasso tightened slightly around the cat's neck, ensuring it couldn't just slip from the noose.

The cat looked away again. _Whatever_.

Chuckling, the young demigod waved his hand at the fire, turning it green, then walked through it; emerging into Helios' Temple.

The presence of Helios surrounded him, a sensation of worry permeating it at his earlier than expected return. "Hi Mister Helios," Harry greeted his faded friend. "I just had a bit of a question for you."

The presence receded slightly, the worry disappearing, only to be replaced with a sensation of curiosity.

"I was wondering if it would be alright if I kept a cat," Harry asked.

Helios' presence receded some more, thinking it through, before giving off a sensation of responsibility. Harry grinned. "I'll take care of it, no worries," he promised. "I just wanted to ask if it's okay."

The presence 'hugged' him, and radiated approval, causing Harry to grin. "Thanks, Mister Helios!"

The presence gave him another 'hug', as if saying 'you're welcome', and Harry waved as he turned to go back to his camp.

Emerging from the flames, he untied Nemmy and re-took his seat. "Mister Helios said it was fine," he told his new pet. "So it looks like you have a home now."

The Nemean House Cat tickled Harry's nose with it's long tail, then snuggled in closer to the boy. Harry grinned and started petting him.

Considering that sunlight would start to fade in a few hours, and the long trek had made him hungry, Harry decided on an early dinner. He dug through what he had brought to find something that his new cat could eat as well, and in the end settled for a stew. He could eat the vegetables, the cat could have the meat.

Just as the food was starting to heat, the skies clouded over and wind picked up. The young demigod cast a worried glance at the heavens, hoping that it wouldn't rain.

He barely managed to dish out the food before the first water drops landed, and while Nemmy seemed to enjoy the food, Harry ended up having to retreat to the tent to stay dry.

The Nemean house Cat didn't seem bothered by the rain, its fur apparently equally proof against water as it was against weapons, but it did appear affected by cold and snuggled close to Harry after finishing its meal.

The young boy looked out the tent at the miserable weather; the winds had picked up considerably now, and temperatures had dropped even further. The rain came down in thick sheets and had drenched out the fire.

"I guess it'll be an early night," he told the cat, snuggling as close to it as it was snuggling to him. It was warm and soft, and Harry enjoyed the rest.

The next morning, he found himself waking up to the curious sensation of being engulfed in bright golden fur. Overnight, the Nemean House Cat had reverted to being the Nemean Lion, and Harry found himself snuggled deep into its long luxurious coat. Its heartbeat and respiration lulled him into a sense of comfort, and Harry closed his eyes and dozed for a while, listening to the trickling of the rain against the cover of the tent.

When he woke up for good, he realized that the Hunter's tent seemed to have some form of magic on it, as its interior had expanded enough for the truck-sized Nemean Lion to sprawl out comfortably.

When Harry raised his head, and found the Lion's head turning to face him. "That was a good night's sleep, despite the cold," Harry told it. Nemmy chuffed, and dropped its head, shrinking back into cat-form as it did. The tent shrunk with it, until it was back to its regular interior size.

Giving the cat a pet, he removed the Lasso from around its neck. "If you didn't eat me while I was asleep, I trust you," he told the cat as it gave him a _look._ It flattened its ears for a moment, then shuddered, as if realizing it was suddenly free, then rolled onto its other side and closed its eyes to continue dozing.

Harry petted it for a bit, then sighed and pulled back the flap of the tent. A wave of cold pushed its way in, making him shiver. He looked out; as the sound of raindrops had already told him, it was raining outside. Raining heavily. He sighed again.

"I guess today's a wash, then," he said, half to himself and half to Nemmy. "Literally. Mister Zeus can be really petty sometimes."

The Nemean House Cat slunk next to him and cuddled up, not liking the cold. "Let's go home," Harry decided. "I'll pack up."

0000

While Nemmy explored the Temple of Helios, Harry unpacked everything. Anything wet he set out to dry, everything else he cleaned and prepared to repack properly so he could return it to Artie.

As he worked, he felt the hearth flash. Grinning at his all-time favorite goddess, he went to give her a hug. "Hi Hestia!"

"Hello Harry," The Goddess of the Home greeted him, returning the embrace. "You are home early, so I thought I'd come and check. I felt you travel here yesterday as well, but you didn't stay long."

The young boy nodded. "Mister Zeus made it rain, and it got rather cold so I decided to come home early," he explained. "And I traveled home yesterday to ask Mister Helios if it would be okay if I had a cat."

"A cat?" Hestia asked, surprised.

The boy nodded eagerly, smiling widely. "He should be around here somewhere," he said. "Nemmy? Where are you?"

Hestia laughed softly at seeing Harry call a cat as if it were a dog. She completely expected the cat to ignore his calls.

To her surprise, a golden-furred feline trudged in from the stairs leading to the upper levels. The moment it got sight of her, it seemed to pull back.

Hestia, equally, stared at the cat. "Harry?" she questioned, softly.

"That's Nemmy, he's my new cat," Harry said, grinning widely, not catching the warning in Hestia's tone. "I ran across him in the woods."

"Are you aware of what this creature is?" the Goddess of the Hearth asked, softly.

Harry nodded. "He's the Nemean Lion, but not he's the Nemean House Cat."

"I believed I asked you to stay out of trouble," Hestia asked, softly. "And 'Nemmy', the Nemean Lion? Really, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "And I did try and stay out of trouble, Hestia!" he then protested. "I just ran across him, then used your Lasso. He submitted, and because your Lasso means he can't lie, I knew it was for real. I kept your Lasso around his neck, though, because I didn't trust him for a while. But last night, because it was raining so much, he slept in the tent with me and didn't do anything while I slept, so I trust him now."

Hestia narrowed her eyes at the cat, who seemed to shrink back, trying to put on the air of an innocent little kitty.

"Just what am I going to do with you?" Hestia wondered, affectionately, when she shifted her gaze to Harry. "Only you can go on a trip to the woods and come home with one of the fiercest monsters alive as a pet."

Harry smiled half-heartedly, hoping that she wasn't really mad at him. "He surrendered, and I didn't want to kill someone who surrendered," he said, softly, glancing at the floor. "And he's been nice so far. Oh, and Artie said she was concerned about me camping on my own, so she told me to pray to her if I ran into problems. So I prayed to her after running into Nemmy. She rushed over with some of her Hunters, and he tried to be a bad cat, but after I gave him a thump on his nose, he was a good kitty again."

Nemmy gave every appearance of trying to sink through the floor. "Besides," Harry said, smile widening again. "You need to pet him. He's so soft!" He dropped to his knees next to the cat, and rubbed his hands through its fur.

Hestia sighed and shook her head, trying to hide her amusement. "I still want you to be careful," the Goddess of the Home said, approaching the duo. "He _is_ still a monster." She gave the cat a pet, a cat that shrunk back from her in obvious fear. Nemmy remembered what happened last time he got mouthy with a goddess, and didn't want to get thumped with a newspaper again.

"But he really is very soft," she admitted. The cat relaxed slightly. She looked at Harry. "Only you, Harry," she repeated. "Only you."

Harry grinned at her.

**AN: Some time back, after watching a youtube video, I conceived of the idea of giving Harry a pet cat – Dex-Starr, the Red Lantern cat. Joshua very decidedly nixed that ****as a Bad I****dea, but the idea of Harry having an incredibly dangerous pet remain****ed**** in my head… a****nd ****this is the result. ****I approached it from the idea that most monsters in Greek Mythology seemed to have some form of self-awareness and intelligence, and that would make them capable of reasoning, ****so why wouldn't the Nemean Lion be capable of making the decision that sticking with a demigod was preferable?**


	26. Chapter 26

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 26**

Harry emerged from the fire at Camp Half-Blood. Winter had fallen, and snow covered the landscape. Frost clung to the buildings, leaving a fairytale-like winter wonderland that seemed to have escaped directly from a Disney animation. He was dressed warm enough, and grinned at the sight of his breath steaming in the cold air.

Christmas was around the corner, and all the year-rounders at camp were off from school on winter break. Which was, coincidentally, exactly why he was here. Annabeth and Silena had invited him over for a day of 'fun and games', which was why he was carrying his bow and quiver of arrows.

Feeling surprised at the invitation, and suspicious at the term 'games', especially as he had been asked to bring his bow, Harry walked deeper into camp.

"Harry!" Annabeth shouted, obviously the first to spot him. She raced over, and gave him a hug. Happily, he hugged back.

"Hi Annabeth!" he said, cheerfully. "How have you been? Enjoying the holidays?"

The Daughter of Athena smiled widely. "I was first of my class," she said. Her smile dropped slightly. "I didn't hear from my family, but camp's brilliant and so are my brothers and sisters."

Harry nodded softly and gave her another hug. He could understand family issues quite well, and knew there was nothing he could say to make her feel better. A hug often did wonders, though.

He was surprised when a weight landed against his back, pushing both him and Annabeth forward, before two slender arms wrapped around them. For some reason, the weight and the arms managed to completely miss the bow and quiver he had slung over one shoulder.

"Hi guys!" Silena said, laughing loudly at the surprised looked on her friends' faces. "You looked _way_ too serious!"

Annabeth gave her friend a mock glare.

"Hi Silena," Harry grinned at his other friend. "Good break?"

"GREAT break!" the Daughter of Aphrodite replied. "Finally done with boring homework and boring classes and boring exams. Freedom from oppression!"

Annabeth's glare intensified somewhat. "Classes aren't boring and you're not being oppressed," she replied. However, Harry could see her lips twitch and knew she was just playing along for fun.

Silena released the group hug and stood up straight. "Until children everywhere have a choice on whether or not to accept slave labor, I will not rest!" she actually raised a fist into the air, as if she were declaring the revolution.

"It's not slave labor, either," Annabeth replied, calmly, lips twitching again.

"You're getting paid? Because I'm not," Silena replied. "I was never asked whether to go to the slave labor camp, if I don't go, I am punished – severely – and I am not getting a single cent in return for my labor."

"School isn't a slave labor camp," Annabeth replied, pinching the bridge of her nose, but Harry could hear the amusement in her voice.

"What brought on this bout of revolutionary zeal?" Harry asked. "Also, keep in mind that organizing and leading a revolution is a lot of hard work. Not to mention rebuilding after you're done."

Silena looked like she hadn't considered that. "We learned about slavery and the emancipation and all that," she replied.

"Unfortunately, Miss Revolutionary had a brainwave," Annabeth said, grinning. "She's been on this train for a while now. I would be more annoyed if it didn't mean that she actually is studying the subject now."

Silena pouted at her friend. "When the School Freedom Revolution kicks off, I'm still making you my second in command, you know."

Annabeth's shoulders shook in a shrug. "That'll give me plenty of opportunity to sabotage you from the inside."

Silena hugged her and hit her with a double dose of the Puppy Dog Eyes. "You wouldn't do that to your bestest friend, would you?"

Annabeth looked away so she wouldn't have to stare into the Eyes of Doom. "In a heartbeat."

"Cold," Silena replied, releasing her friend and grinned. "Very cold."

"Yup," Annabeth answered, laughing. "Don't touch my school!"

"The biggest problem isn't the revolution, nor even succeeding in said revolution," Harry said, as if pondering deep thoughts.

"How so?" Silena asked, curious.

Harry shrugged. "Succeeding in a revolution is as easy as walking up to the oppressor in charge, shooting them, and sitting yourself down in their chair. The biggest problem is making it past five minutes, because the previous oppressor's bodyguards will likely be after you for kicking their boss out."

Annabeth squeezed the bridge of her nose, as if in physical pain. Silena, on the other hand, was laughing. "I'm _so_ making you my Minister of Strategy for that one!" she chortled.

Harry laughed along with her. "I'd do better as Minister of Supplies, that way I get to cook for everybody, and let's face it, nobody ever kills the cook."

Annabeth's shoulders were shaking. Silena nodded gravely. "That's very true."

"Let's change the subject, please," Annabeth implored them. "I know neither of you are serious, but imagine what other people might think if they heard us."

"That you're a bunch of revolutionaries," Louis said, making himself heard. "Can I be Minister of Propaganda?"

"Sold!" Silena said, pointing at the large Son of Apollo.

"Please don't encourage them," Annabeth implored.

"Too late," Jack – or was it Jim? – said. "Is Minister of Sport still available? Because if so, I'm game!"

"And Minister of Sport is sold to the blonde guy with the grey eyes," Silena said, pointing to the one twin who had spoken.

His twin brother looked put out, but then grinned. "I suppose I could be Minister of Education. Every day is a day off under the revolution, so it's a cushy job."

Silena studied him for a moment. "It'll be the Minister of Education's job to make sure that all schools are closed properly, it's a lot of responsibility."

"Please stop," Annabeth pleaded.

They all laughed. "I propose we have mercy on the poor Daughter of Athena," Silena proposed.

"Seconded," Harry immediately said.

"I have a proposal and a second, let's vote," Silena said to her 'council of ministers'.

Louis and the Guys nodded gravely. "Everyone's in favor, we're going to have mercy," Silena said, officiously. "I hereby declare this session of the Revolutionary Council to be closed."

Annabeth's shoulders still shook. "I would be so upset at you guys if you hadn't actually done that properly," she said, laughing silently.

Silena threw an arm over her shoulders. "And we still love you, even if you're a treacherous member of the establishment."

Annabeth elbowed the Daughter of Aphrodite in the side. "Enough already."

Silena took the elbow with a small 'oomph', then turned to face Harry. "I'm glad you could come, Harry. Today's Capture the Flag and Annabeth and I thought that it would be great to have you participate."

Louis and the two Guys suddenly looked worried. "That's why he has the bow and arrows?" the oldest Son of Apollo asked.

"Yup", Annabeth said, smugly. The three Sons of Apollo looked even more worried.

"Why are you three upset?" Harry asked. "I can guess what Capture the Flag is, but maybe someone wants to explain things to me."

"We break up into two teams, red and blue, with the different cabins joining different teams," Annabeth explained. "Everyone dresses in armor and tries to steal the opponent's flag. And the reason those three are upset is because they accepted an alliance with the Hermes Cabin and are allied against us."

"Oh," Harry said. "And this involves a bow and arrows?"

"We use live weapons," Louis explained. "And we've seen you shoot."

"I don't want to hurt anybody," the young demigod replied. "I've been taught to shoot to kill, so that's a really bad idea."

"You're not allowed to kill or maim anybody anyway," Annabeth said, as if that rule was no big deal.

Harry remained silent; Artie and Miss Zoë had drilled him extensively in shooting his bow. They had insisted on one hit kills; they told him that wounding an animal was bad sport. You didn't want your prey to suffer; you want it dead as quickly and painlessly as possible.

The very thought of shooting to hurt or injure sat bad with him. He didn't want to shoot people anyway, regardless of whether it was to hurt or to kill, but the very idea of _not_ taking a perfectly valid kill shot just rankled him after all the training he had received.

Then he shook his head. He wasn't even sure he wanted to compete in this game, and he was already worrying about shooting people. Harry grinned at himself; he should better get his priorities in order before worrying about shooting people.

Not that he wanted to, anyway.

While Harry had his introspective mood, Silena and Annabeth had kept up a lively chatter with the three Sons of Apollo. They were stopped by a muscular girl of Harry's age, with brown hair and eyes. She was a head taller than he was, though, and had three other thuggish-looking kids behind her, all as big as she was.

"What's this? Fresh meat?" she asked, eyeing Harry.

"Clarisse," Silena said. "This is Harry, Son of Tyche. Harry, this is Clarisse La Rue, Daughter of Ares."

Harry grinned at her. "Nice to meet you," he told her, extending one hand.

She scoffed at him. "Drop the pleasantries," she said, her grin widening. "So this is the one, huh? You don't look like much."

Harry shrugged, and dropped his hand. "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to 'look like'," he answered, self-depreciatingly.

"I think I'm going to start an initiation ceremony for newbies," Clarisse said, reaching out towards Harry.

"Clarisse," Annabeth sighed.

"Stay out of this, Wise Girl," Clarisse snapped.

Harry studied her. _She will reach in and attempt to grab me by the neck with one arm to limit my mobility._ He knew that he couldn't keep dodging, plus, as a Daughter of Ares, she was really focused on violence. Then he remembered how he'd gotten Nemmy to behave before. _I should step to one side, then move forward and slap her cheek to snap her out of it_.

As Clarisse tried to grab Harry's neck, he sidestepped the one-handed grab the girl tried to employ, then stepped into range and slapped her. "Please do not employ violence upon my person," Harry admonished calmly.

Clarisse gaped at him. "Did you just slap me?" she asked, as if she couldn't _believe_ what had just happened.

_She will reach again, two-handed this time. Step back two steps to throw off her range, then step left-forward two steps, and slap her other cheek._

"Yes," Harry said. "You were attempting to employ violence."

Clarisse let out a low growl and made to grab for Harry with both hands. The boy took two quick steps back to have her miss, then stepped forward and to the left and slapped her other cheek. "Please refrain from doing that," he told her calmly.

"Holy crap," Silena muttered behind him.

"Right there with you, Beauty Queen," Louis replied.

Clarisse's face started to glow red. _She's going to draw a weapon and engage. From her stance, it is either a spear or a pole-arm of some kind. Move sideways to avoid the weapon, use its unwieldy nature against her. Step into range and engage at short range._

True to Harry's thoughts, the Daughter of Ares drew something that turned into a spear. A spear that had red light, writhing like electricity, along its tip. "How'd you like that, punk? A gift from my father!"

"You mean a surprise," Harry answered. "Mister Ares doesn't do 'gifts'."

Clarisse blinked in surprise, before her grin's edge abated as she realized that he really _did_ know her father on a personal basis. "True enough, Newbie. But, you humiliated me in front of my peeps, so you got to pay."

As Clarisse charged with the spear, Harry stuck to his pre-determined plan, and kept up a sideways and forward motion, quickly closing the distance into hand-to-hand range, then slapped her cheek.

_She's going to growl, and attempt to step back to re-engage with her spear. I should step up to maintain the distance._

As Clarisse growled and took a step back, Harry stepped with her, and slapped her other cheek. _She's going to strike with the butt of her weapon; I should take a large step forward to get passed her, then slap her… other… cheek._

The Daughter of Ares inverted her spear and tried to jamb his stomach with it. Harry stepped to one side to avoid the strike and loped past her, slapping backwards, hitting her behind.

The girl yelped loudly as his hand connected to her buttock.

She whirled around. "Will you _stop_ that!" Clarisse shouted at him, face red with embarrassment and humiliation. Her three compatriots looked like they couldn't stop laughing, which probably didn't help matters.

"I will stop as long as you stop trying to perpetrate violence upon my person," Harry answered calmly, somehow digging up all the expensive words that Athena had drilled into him.

"Huh?" Clarisse asked, staring at him.

"He wants you to stop trying to hurt him," Louis said, grinning widely and sounding as if he was fighting not to burst out laughing. _As opposed to you actually hurting him_ was left, very loudly, unsaid.

"Oh," the Daughter of Ares said, staring at Harry. She sighed, straightened up, and tucked away her spear. "You know, you're not so bad, Newbie."

Harry chuckled; she was so exactly like Ares. "You're not so bad yourself, Clarisse," Harry said, extending his hand again. This time, she shook it.

"We should spar for real sometime," she told him. "I'd be curious to see who'd win."

"Harry," Annabeth, Silena, Jack and Jim, and Louis said at the same time.

Clarisse gave them a glare.

"Yup," came from one of her brothers behind her.

Clarisse turned to glare at _him,_ too. "Do you want me to put you in the dirt again, punk?"

The boy in question shook his head. Clarisse gave him a firm nod. "Then remember who can kick your ass," she snapped at the boy who'd spoken up.

"You talking about me?" An African-American boy asked as he walked up. He was about as tall as Clarisse, and just as wide. However, where Clarisse had a 'thug' sort of width, this new boy had the 'muscular' sort of width that could only come from lots and lots of physical labor.

"Harry, this is Charlie Beckendorf, Son of Hephaestus," Silena said, motioning to the new boy. "Charles, this is Harry."

"Call me 'Beckendorf, please," the muscular, dark-skinned boy said, holding out one huge paw of a hand.

Harry grinned, and grabbed it. "I'm Harry, nice to meet you, Beckendorf," he said, feeling the strength in the other boy's grip and making sure to squeeze back.

The Son of Hephaestus grinned. "Nice grip strength," he answered as they released each other's hand. He turned to face Clarisse. "I heard you talking about kicking ass, so I thought you were talking about me," he told her.

The Daughter of Ares grunted and scowled at him.

"Charles kicked her ass," Silena confided.

"All this muscle from swinging a hammer comes in handy," the other boy replied, smiling widely. "I could hold her with one hand."

"Don't remind me," Clarisse muttered.

A conch shell sounded over camp.

"Lunch time," Annabeth said when she noticed Harry looking a little lost. Nodding, he followed the group the dining pavilion, joined by the other campers. Satyrs emerged from the meadow, Naiads stepped out of the lake, and actual Dryads emerged from the trees of the trees in the woods. Assorted Wood Nymphs stepped from the woodland shadows as well, joining the trek to the dining pavilion.

Overall, Harry thought there were about a hundred campers total, a few dozen Satyrs, and perhaps a dozen or so assorted nymphs: Naiads, Dryads, and Wood Nymphs.

When they reached the pavilion, Harry saw torches blaze around the marble columns, yet no roof existed to rest on them. A central fire blazed hotly in a bronze brazier the size of a large tub – or perhaps a small wading pool. Each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed with purple.

Some tables were empty, like the one Harry guessed corresponded to Artie's cabin. Zeus' table only seemed to hold Thalia, and Harry felt somewhat sorry for her, having to eat by herself all the time. Hera's table was correspondingly empty, as was the table for Poseidon.

"As the son of a minor goddess, you should join the Hermes cabin," Annabeth said, when Harry froze and watched everybody take their seats.

Harry glanced at the table for his grandfather, and saw how overcrowded it was. There would barely be any room for him there! At the same time, he wondered where Hestia's table was; they didn't have a cabin for her, but surely, they had a _table_ for her, right?

Just as he concluded that no, Camp Half-Blood didn't have a table for his all-time favorite goddess either, he was drawn back to the here and now. "He can join us," Silena decided, grabbing his arm. "Come on, Harry, Mom let you into the cabin, I'm sure she'll let you sit at her table, too."

"Ehm… sure?" Harry half-asked, wondering when the decision had been taken out of his hands and debating whether it was a bad thing or not. Before he knew it, he was seated at the table with Aphrodite's children, and as Silena had predicted, no curse befell him.

He felt immediately accepted at the table, just like the time he had entered Aphrodite's cabin, and grinned when he answered questions from the other children of the Goddess of Love.

As he talked, Harry continued to look around, and found Dionysus at table twelve, along with a couple of the Satyrs, as well as two rather plump looking boys that took after Dionysus. Chiron stood off to one side, his large centaur build preventing him from making use of a picnic table.

Chiron pounded his front hoof against the ground, quieting everyone down.

"To the gods!" the trainer of Heroes shouted.

"To the gods!" everybody else shouted back, raising their glasses. Harry felt a bit odd doing so with an empty glass, but decided to join in nonetheless. He rather liked most gods and didn't mind honoring them.

"Talk to the glass, it's awesome," Silena whispered quietly. "Strictly non-alcoholic, though."

"Thanks," Harry whispered back. He looked at the glass. "Mulled cranberry apple cider," he told the glass. It soon filled with a warm, mulled, cranberry apple cider.

"Whoa," Silena muttered. "I'm so having that after I'm done with my coke." Quite a few of Aphrodite's children gave Harry an appreciate look at his choice of beverage.

Wood Nymphs stalked between the tables, carrying platters of food, lots of fruit, cheese, fresh bread, and lots of barbecue. Harry filled his plate, and was about to start eating, when he noticed everybody get up. He jumped to catch up and not embarrass himself or the Aphrodite Cabin.

They all filed towards the center of the pavilion, and Harry saw them swipe some of their food into the fire.

Ah, they were offering food to the gods, Harry realized. He wondered for a moment why Hestia had never explained that to him, nor asked him to do the same, but then he realized that she tried to join him for a meal as often as she could and likely felt that joining him was better than an offering.

Since he was here, however, he may as well. He swiped some brisket, fruit, bread, and cheese from his plate into the fire, ensuring it was a balanced meal, and silently thought, _Hestia, Mom, this is for you_.

The smell that came from the food surprised him; he had expected to smell burning food but instead found that it smelled wonderfully of a home-cooked meal, chocolate chip cookies and grilled meat and wildflowers for some reason.

They all trooped back to their tables and started eating.

Maybe it was the fact that he had learned to cook from Hestia, who, as Goddess of the Home, was also the Goddess of Cooking. Or maybe it was just his experience of cooking for himself so often. Whatever the case was, Harry wondered if there were other options as mealtime. As much as he liked grilled meat, he wouldn't want to eat it every day.

As nice as the meat was, he missed some condiments for it, too.

He closed his eyes and focused for a moment, then took the small container of horseradish that appeared, and smeared some of it over his brisket.

Conversation at the Aphrodite table came to a halt. "Haaarrry?" Silena wheedled.

Harry blinked at her. "Yes?" he asked, feeling apprehensive for an unidentified reason.

"Where did you get that from?" she asked, straightforwardly.

"It's a talent," he said. "Hestia gave it to me. I can create food, as long as it's a home cooked meal or a part of a home cooked meal."

"Any food at all?" Silena asked, over the surprised gasps from her siblings.

"As long as it's a home cooked meal, yes," Harry answered.

"You have the most awesome broken gifts," the Daughter of Aphrodite said with a giggle. "It's been a long time since I had Macaroni and Cheese… _please?_" she wheedled again.

Harry grinned, closed his eyes, and brought his hands together. A small plate of the dish appeared between them. Silena's eyes went wide and she grabbed it before anyone else could. Harry made sure it was a small plate, a side dish, basically. He loved to cook; he wouldn't want to offend any of the nymphs by implying the campers preferred other food.

Grinning at the putout looks of the other children of Aphrodite, Harry took requests, and was soon conjuring additional side dishes, some of which didn't come around very often at camp. Like Norm, the very same who had gotten him his outfit for visiting Athena, who asked for frog's legs.

Not that Harry minded, he loved it when people enjoyed his food, even if it was food he conjured rather than cooked. Happily, he ate his own meal.

After everyone was done eating, and just sat around talking, Chiron pounded the ground again. Harry realized that the centaur seemed to enjoy doing that for some reason.

Dionysus, with a huge sigh, pulled himself to his feet. "Our Activities Director, Chiron, informs that we have Capture the Flag this afternoon. Cabin Six currently holds the laurels." The table that held Annabeth burst into cheers.

"Yes, yes, congratulations," Dionysus went on, sounding anything but interested in giving kudos. "Also, luckily for me, Harold Poitier is only here for the day and not to stay. Having heard of his exploits, he'd turn my hair gray before the end of the month."

Harry grinned. _I like you too, Mister Dionysus,_ he thought silently, knowing that the god in question could hear his silent prayer without issue.

The god's eyes caught Harry's, and for a moment, the boy thought the portly God of Wine winked at him. Just like with the sun in the mornings, it was quick enough that it may just be his imagination, however.

"Now run along," Dionysus said, waving disinterestedly.

The Sons and Daughters of Aphrodite broke up and Harry joined Silena to find Annabeth.

"Did I see you conjure food?" Annabeth asked Harry as soon as the Daughter of Athena met them.

The young Son of Tyche nodded. "It's a gift from Hestia. It's awesome."

Annabeth narrowed her Athena-grey eyes, but remained silent. Louis and the two Guys had joined them without anyone noticing.

"So, are you playing?" Louis asked.

"I don't want to hurt anybody," Harry replied honestly. "Who all are playing, anyway?"

"Technically, everybody," Annabeth answered. "But Aphrodite Cabin usually sits out the game."

"We're lovers, not fighters," Silena said with a grin. "Well, some of us are, anyway. I'll be joining for sure."

"If they can sit it out, I may as well," Harry said, slowly, as if thinking about it. "I'd love to see how the Capture the Flag game is played, but I really don't want to hurt anybody."

Louis seemed relieved at that. "That's good, Harry, if you feel that way you should totally sit it out," he told the younger boy.

Harry narrowed his eyes, feeling as if Louis wasn't telling him something.

"Don't listen to him, Harry. He's just scared," Annabeth told him. "We've managed to forge an alliance with Ares and Aphrodite Cabins, leaving Apollo and Hermes cabins with everybody else. They thought they had it in the bag, numerical superiority being what it is."

"Hey, that reminds me!" Louis said, pointing at Harry. "You're the Son of Tyche, right?"

Harry pointed at himself, not used to one of his friends pointing at him like that. "Yes?" he asked.

"As the son of a minor goddess, that means you're supposed to be in Hermes Cabin! That means you would be on _our_ side! Dude, you should _totally _join the game!"

"Hey! That's not fair!" Annabeth protested. "We brought him here! And you didn't want him playing until you figured out he could be on _your_ side!"

"Well, duh," Louis answered casually. "All's fair in love and war."

Annabeth narrowed her eyes again. Harry had to admit she had inherited her mother's glare.

"Hang on," Harry said, breaking up an impending argument. "It's basically Athena and Ares Cabins, plus Silena, against everybody else? That's not really fair, is it?"

"We spent too much time forging the alliance with Ares Cabin," Annabeth muttered, shamefacedly. "By the time that deal got done, everybody else was on the opposing side."

"Louis, I'm afraid that I'm morally obligated to help a downtrodden underdog, so I'm sorry, but it seems I'll be on Annabeth's side," Harry told the older Son of Apollo.

"But you're supposed to be on _our_ side, with Hermes Cabin and all that!" Louis protested.

Harry grinned. "I'm in Hestia's Cabin, and being the only member of said cabin, I get to decide which side I'll join," he answered convincingly.

"Aw man," Louis pouted playfully.

"Can we turn traitor and join Hestia's Cabin?" Jack – or Jim – asked, causing Harry and the two girls to burst out laughing.

"Guys!" Louis scolded.

"We'd be victorious traitors, having seen which way the wind was blowing and joining the winning side. History is written by the victors," the other twin replied.

The first twin nodded. "And considering we'd be on the side of the victors, we'd be 'freedom fighters' or 'rebels' or some such, rather than traitors."

Louis scowled darkly at them. "Dad would be ashamed of you."

"Dad would probably be on Harry's side, too," the second twin answered. "From what we heard, he likes Harry."

"Mister Apollo's cool," Harry said with a nod. "A bit of a pervert, but totally cool nonetheless."

"So you're definitely joining us?" Annabeth asked, suddenly sounding a bit shy.

"I'll need to find some blunt arrows. I really don't want to shoot somebody for real," Harry answered. "So, how exactly is this game played?"

"Oh, it's easy," Silena said. "We're divided in two teams, Red and Blue. Temporary alliances are made, so the composition of the teams changes from game to game. We're all let go in the forest; the creek that runs through it is the boundary. Each team is given a flag, which they have to take to their side of the forest, and protect it with no more than two people per flag. The goal is for one side to capture the flag and bring it to their side of the forest."

Harry nodded. "That sounds suspiciously like some of the stuff Miss Zoë had me doing. Find a target, capture a goal, retrieve an objective, that sort of thing." He still looked unsure. "I really don't want to hurt anybody, though."

"We all get weapons and helmets and stuff, so we're all pretty secure," Annabeth tried to reassure him. "And like I said, we're not allowed to kill or maim."

Harry pouted at her. "Not a lot of good that rule will do if I shoot someone through the eye and into the brain," he told her.

They froze and looked at him. "You can shoot a moving target in the eye? For real?" Louis asked, gaping at him. "We're the Sons of Apollo; we could make the shot, maybe."

Harry shook his head. "Standing target, not a moving target. For a moving target, I need a bigger area, so I usually aim for the throat. Very few things survive an arrow to the throat." _Yeah, like Nemmy_, he thought silently.

He saw Annabeth grasp for her throat, remembering his knife and what it did to that man that had tried to kidnap her. She paled slightly.

"Some good may as well come from it," Harry whispered to her while giving her a gentle hug. The Daughter of Athena nodded sadly.

"It's a good tactic," she whispered back, her voice shaking slightly.

Recognizing that something was up, but not necessarily what, the others stepped back and let Harry comfort her.

The conch shell sounded again, and Harry let go of Annabeth. He gave her a look that asked whether she was okay. She nodded, and gave him a faint smile that said that yes, everything was fine now.

Sometimes, friends didn't need words.

"Let's get outfitted," the Daughter of Athena said instead. Harry nodded, still not feeling all that enthusiastic about something that may cause him to hurt people.

They trooped back to the dining pavilion. The teams were announced, along the lines of what had been discussed earlier. Athena had managed to forge an alliance with Ares and Aphrodite Cabins, something that took a lot of political wrangling, exchange of shower times, chore schedules, the best activities slots, and so forth. Harry was suddenly very happy to be on his own – because _shower times_? He wanted to bathe when he needed it, not when someone told him it was okay, thank you very much.

The note on making sure he never ended up at camp filed away, Harry continued to listen. Apollo and Hermes Cabins, the largest at camp, had allied with everybody else, Dionysus, Demeter, and Hephaestus cabins. And Thalia, as the only representative for Zeus' Cabin.

"Heroes!" Chiron yelled. "You know the rules. The creek is the boundary lines, and the entire forest is fair game. You can use all magical items; your flag must be prominently displayed and can be guarded by no more than two people. Prisoners may be disarmed, but neither bound nor gagged; killing and maiming is _prohibited_. I will serve as referee as well as battlefield medic. Now, arm yourselves!"

At a sign of his hands, the tables were covered with equipment; helmets, bronze swords, spears, shields.

Harry reached out and grabbed a sword. The only experience he had with this particular style of weapon was with the sword Ares put in his hands while fighting the Hydra, still, this weapon felt entirely different.

It felt unbalanced, for some reason. It was too tip-heavy for his tastes; sure, it would deliver a more powerful downwards strike, but it would take more energy to maneuver and reset for a new strike. He put the sword down again; he didn't have enough experience with one anyway.

He emerged his bracers, then his shield, then Hestia's Lasso, which he looped on his belt. Grabbing a helmet that seemed to be his size, he put it on. It had a red plume, like all the plumes of the helmets on their side.

Suddenly, something drew Harry's attention.

A quiver of blunted arrows. Grinning, he grabbed it. Blunted arrows would prevent him from killing people.

He hoped.

Because even a blunted arrow could seriously mess somebody up if he shot them in the eye with one.

He'd still be hurting someone, though, which didn't sit right… Hestia didn't like violence, after all. Although self-defense was probably allowed. He thought, anyway.

He wished he'd had some time to talk this over with Hestia, but it was too late now.

The young demigod cast a glance over at the blue team, and found that Jack and Jim, despite their earlier statements about defecting, were sticking close to Louis and their other Apollo siblings.

"Harry?" Annabeth said, drawing his attention.

"Yeah?" he asked, still distractedly trying to figure out how, where, and when he had gotten himself enrolled into an apparently very violent game; a game that involved enough bloodshed that there was a rule about not killing or maiming, and one that required an actual battlefield medic.

"Most of us will be on border patrol, but a few of us will be going after the flag," the Daughter of Annabeth explained. "Can you and Clarisse protect the flag? Considering there are way more of them than there are of us, we're thinking a lot of them will get by our guards."

Harry shrugged. Playing defense sounded good to him. Maybe he could talk people out of attacking him. He glanced over at Clarisse; the Daughter of Ares had her spear out and was cackling.

Yes. Actually _cackling_. It made her sound like one of those over-acting villains out of an old black and white movie, and Harry found himself grinning.

"We're gonna have so much fun, Newbie," she cackled at him.

Harry grinned. "We probably will," he answered her, thinking about placing a few traps for the other team. "Our opponents probably won't feel the same," he added, suddenly realizing that shooting someone, even with a blunted arrow, will hurt.

Her cackling intensified. "I knew I liked ya for a reason!" she laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. Only the fact that he was used to various deities slapping him on the shoulder allowed him to internalize a yell and refuse to be moved forward.

"Great, they're getting along," Annabeth muttered, almost quietly. She looked at Silena, the only one of Aphrodite Cabin to actually join them. Her brothers and sisters seemed to have peeled off and were gossiping next to the creek. "How did _that_ happen?"

The Daughter of Aphrodite shrugged. "Harry works in mysterious ways, I suppose," she replied, earning herself a dirty look from her friend.

Harry chose to ignore the commentary, and focused instead on calming himself down. First, he didn't want to lose. Second, he wanted to show that all the hard work and training he had put in wasn't wasted. Third, he wanted the various gods who had been kind enough to teach him to know _their_ effort wasn't wasted, either. Finally, he wanted to do this without seriously injuring too many people and thus making Hestia sad.

"Come along, Newbie," Clarisse said, the Red Flag draped carelessly over her shoulder. "Let's go get set up."

They found a small and secluded open area, and Clarisse just casually stabbed the flag's pole into the ground. "Here good?" she asked.

Harry looked around. "I'm guessing everybody knows where these clear spots are?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yup, of course."

Harry grinned. "Let me show you a trick," he said, focusing on the flag, and throwing some Shen at the image. Suddenly, he was holding a, for all intents and purposes, identical flag.

Clarisse whistled. "Here's what I'm thinking," Harry said. "We put _this_ flag near that tree line over there, and trap the heck out of it. Whoever grabs it will trigger the trap. If there's more than one, the second one either will be too busy helping the first one, or will grab this fake flag and run. Whatever the case may be – I can disappear this fake flag before they can get very far, and if they're helping their comrade, we can jump them."

Clarisse was practically rolling on the floor. "I like your thinking."

"Since the regular flag needs to be displayed prominently, I suggest we display it prominently – like from a branch of that tree over there, which should be a good 10 meters straight up," Harry said, pointing to a particular tree that had its lowest branches a dozen or so meters off the ground.

"How the hell will you get that flag over that branch?" the Daughter of Ares demanded.

Harry grinned, grabbed the original flag, tossed it over his shoulder, and took a short sprint at the tree. At the right moment, he pulled on his three energy centers, adding energy to his climb and allowing him to practically run up the tree's trunk to the lowest-hanging branches.

He almost didn't make it, feeling the energy slip between his ethereal fingers, but he just managed to grab hold of the branch he was aiming at. He pulled himself up and fixed the flag.

"Good?" he shouted down.

Clarisse was gaping at him, then laughed loudly and gave him a thumb's up. "Now get yourself down, Newbie!"

Harry grinned; using the skills that Zoë had taught him for climbing trees, he grabbed hold of the trunk with arms and legs, clamping down as hard as he could, and then wormed his way down.

"Impressive trick," she told him. "Let's go trap-"

The conch shell sounded, followed by the distant cries and whoops of the demigods. "Never mind," the Daughter of Ares said. "Let's get ready." Her grin widened. "We're gonna have loads of people after us, it'll be _great_!"

Harry nodded, then sprinted at a smaller tree and soon vanished into its branches. The evergreen concealed him, even in the depths of winter. Of course, there were few evergreens around so the moment he loosed his first arrow people would know where he was; it was virtually the only decent hiding spot around.

Clarisse laughed, and gave him another thumb's up. Warriors came in all sorts and sizes, and if Harry was content to snipe people, then that was fine by her. More physical violence for her that way.

Harry settled behind the evergreen's greenery, and readied a blunt arrow on his string. He wished he were better at magic, but despite months of exercise, he had yet to find the greater world's magic.

When he had complained to Marduk, the ancient mage had the audacity to laugh at him. It had actually hurt his feelings somewhat. Calming himself, the immortal had explained that, just because Harry had been very good or very lucky to find the first stage very quickly, didn't mean that he would be so good or so lucky to repeat it for the second step. Marduk then reminded him that it would take him 20 years to be good at this.

Harry had pouted at having forgotten that part.

He noticed Clarisse grinning and pulling herself up, readying herself for violence. Shaking himself from his depressing thoughts about his lack of progress at magic, Harry focused on the here and now. He was ready to draw at a moment's notice.

A team of four charged into the clearing; Harry knew one of them. It was Luke, whom he'd brought to camp. He didn't know the other three but they looked a bit like Luke and Hermes, so the boy assumed they were sons of his as well.

Clarisse let out a whoop and charged the foursome, apparently finding four-on-one fun odds.

Harry grinned, that was such an _Ares_ thing to do. He readied his bow and drew, waiting for a clear shot.

Luke broke off and raced around Clarisse, who was actually holding her own against three older Hermes kids. Harry's vision focused, almost as if the world fell away and the only thing visible was his moving target.

His fingers released the string.

The blunted arrow thwacked Luke right in the throat. He let out an _urk_, and went down.

For a moment, his heart fell at the sight, fearing that he had seriously injured – or worse, _killed –_ his opponent.

The boy groaned again, one arm moving to his throat. Harry let out a sigh of relief.

Another blunt arrow was already on his string, and he focused on a second Son of Hermes, one of three still fighting Clarisse. The boy had retreated somewhat while still giving the impression of actually being in the fight, and made ready to stab her in the side.

Clarisse let out a joyful yell when the red-glowing tip of her spear skewered one of the boys. Harry resisted the urge to gag or yell, and instead focused on the backstabbing Son of Hermes, hoping that Clarisse would notice him and that he wouldn't have to let out a shot this close to an ally.

She engaged the second boy, ignoring the third who was aiming up for that cheap shot.

Harry loosed the string; the arrow hit its mark.

A second son of Hermes went down with a bruised throat. Clarisse blocked a shot from the opponent she was fighting, glanced at the boy on the ground, noticed his position, and whooped again.

The next moment, the butt of her spear connected with the head of her opponent. Through the helmet, it merely stunned him enough for her to reverse her spear and stab him.

She was still yelling, obviously caught in a mad blood rush, when three Sons of Apollo strode onto the battlefield.

Three Sons of Apollo that he knew well.

Harry, wanting to spare them what happened to the Hermes boys, pitched his voice and threw some magic behind it. "Please drop your weapons and surrender," he declared.

"Hell no!" Clarisse shouted, and seemed like she wanted to charge anyway.

"And what if we don't?" Louis asked, glancing at the four Sons of Hermes groaning on the floor.

"Please drop your weapons and surrender," Harry requested again. "Please do not force me to hurt friends."

Jack and Jim dropped their swords immediately. Louis gave them an ugly look, but Clarisse was grinning and raised her spear. "Wanna dance, Pretty boy?" she asked, waving her spear around.

Louis sighed, and dropped his sword and shield as well. "Fine, we surrender." he looked at the evergreen. "Did you _really_ shoot two guys from over there, Harry? In the throat despite them wearing helmets that should, theoretically, protect them from that very thing?"

"Those helmets are open at the front, and expose the front of their throat," Harry answered, still pitching his voice. The three Sons of Apollo, expert archers thanks to their father, looked from the first Son of Hermes, to the second Son of Hermes, then at the tree.

"You're fucking scary, you know that?" One of the guys – either Jack or Jim – shouted.

"He's fucking awesome is what he is!" Clarisse shouted. "He took out Luke when made a run for it and he took out _this_ jackass who tried to blindside me," she added while giving the groaning boy a kick in the side.

Louis' smile was brittle. He pointed back to where they had come from. "Yes… well… we've surrendered, so we'll just be-" he broke off when an arrow landed with pinpoint accuracy right in front of his right shoe. "Ehm, right by that tree over there," he finished, suddenly pointing to a nearby tree instead.

Clarisse laughed. "You're a coward, but an honest coward," she told him.

Louis gave her a dirty look. "You're lucky you're not on your own."

"Why did you tell us to leave our bows behind again?" Jack – or Jim – asked. "We may as well have tried to shoot Harry out of that tree."

Louis gave _him_ a dirty look, too. "It's winter. There shouldn't be any cover. We would be sitting ducks, trying to draw a bow in a forest you can just see right through. Why or how Harry was able to find the one evergreen tree that would allow him cover, I have no idea."

Clarisse was laughing as the three Sons of Apollo sat down next to the tree Louis had indicated. "We'll just sit here, quietly chatting," Louis told her. "No need to send Scary Harry after us."

The Daughter of Ares gave them all a grin, and then whirled around when another trio of demigods entered the field, one girl and two boys. She engaged with a yell, not wanting to give Harry a chance to talk down any more opponents, and soon was fighting two on one, with the girl trying the same tactic as Luke and making a run for the flag.

She was shorter than the other two, and didn't seem eager to fight, but she was swift of foot. Harry dropped her with a blunt arrow to the throat.

The two demigods fighting Clarisse were both older than her, and seemed to be more concerned with not hurting each other than with hurting Clarisse. Which was something she eagerly exploited as she expertly navigated them in a crossfire situation, where they would be equally likely to hit the other than they were to hit her.

He drew his bow nonetheless, waiting for an opportunity, but it wasn't needed. The first boy went down with a deep cut to his leg, and soon the second had a stab wound in his side.

"Whoop! Bloodshed!" the demigod of Ares yelled, brandishing her spear aloft.

In the distance, the conch horn sounded again. "Hell yeah! We won!" Clarisse shouted. Then her shoulders drooped. "But this means no more bloodshed. Bummer."

Harry grinned as he slid down the trunk of his tree. "At least we won, right? Any fight you can walk away from is a good fight, but any fight you walk away from with a victory is a _great_ one."

Clarisse laughed loudly and clapped him on the back. "Too right, Newbie." She looked at the decoy flag, the one both Luke and the female demigod had been after. "Your decoy's awesome."

Chiron cantered into the clearing, and looked at the groaning demigods on the ground. "It looks like my expertise is needed," he commented dryly, before looking at the flag. "That isn't the camp flag," he noted, eyes narrowing.

"Nope," Harry said, dispelling the illusion. "That is a decoy. The real flag is displayed prominently over there." He pointed to the tall tree, where the real flag was draped over a branch a dozen meters off the ground.

"That..." Chiron said, not knowing what to say, and closing his mouth. He drew a breath. "It is prominently displayed, yes, and that is nice decoy. I don't believe I want to know how you got it up there."

Silena and three boys from Athena's Cabin were carrying Annabeth on their shoulders, Annabeth who was carrying the flag she had captured from the opposing team. They were all whooping and yelling, and Clarisse had no problem joining in the merriment.

"Looks like you guys were busy," Silena commented, letting some boy from Ares cabin take her spot carrying Annabeth, who was blushing and didn't seem all that comfortable with the attention.

"This guy's awesome!" Clarisse pointed at Harry. "Covered my back, stayed out my way, and did _that_," she said, pointing to the flag up in the tree. "No way was anybody stealing our flag!"

Silena looked at the tree, paled, and looked at Harry. "Were you trying to kill yourself climbing that?" she demanded, pointing at the flag.

The festive demigods grew quiet as they all realized _where_ their flag had been 'prominently' displayed.

Harry shrugged. "It's just a tree," he said, turning, taking a short sprint, and repeating his wall-running trick. This time, he judged the distance correctly and didn't need to throw himself at the branch in order to keep himself from falling. Sitting on the branch, against the trunk, Harry rolled up their flag, and shimmied back down the trunk. He had to admit, shimmying down a tree trunk with a large and heavy flag was a lot more effort than it was worth, in his opinion.

"We never had a chance," Louis muttered. "We surrendered. We sat out most of the game. None of us even knew it was up there, we were all focused on that decoy." He sighed. "You're as bad as the Hunters are. We can't win from _them_ either."

Harry smiled widely. "Artie's Hunters are awesome. Who do you think taught me?"

Chiron had dressed the wounds of the demigods on the ground, and managed to get them back on their feet. Groans shot up from the losers.

"I vote we don't let Harry compete in any more Capture the Flag games," Luke wheezed, his voice hoarse from the damage Harry's arrow had done to his throat.

"I vote we get Harry on our side next time," Louis retorted.

"I rescind my vote, that's a better idea," Luke wheezed.

Suddenly, Annabeth and Silena each had an arm of his, making him blush. "Harry's with us," Annabeth declared, making Silena nod. "We asked him to come and join the game."

"We're friends of Harry's, too," Louis said, pointing to himself and the two Guys. "I bet he'd come if we asked, too."

Harry felt incredibly uncomfortable all of a sudden. He had never been actually _wanted_ like this before, and didn't know how to handle it. He felt awful that Silena and Annabeth seemed to be fighting with the Sons of Hermes over him all of a sudden.

"I don't think I'll be joining every game anyway," Harry said, stalling further argument. "Besides, I'm not really a camper, so I'm not sure if I even _should_ join every game. Also, it seems to me there's an easy solution."

"Which is?" Louis asked, curiously.

"For those games that I _do_ take part in, you just need to make sure you're allied with Athena and Aphrodite Cabin, that way we're all on the same team," he told the Son of Apollo.

"Hell, yeah! Next time you're in, Ares cabin's in, too!" Clarisse shouted.

"You're not even Counselor of Ares Cabin," Luke wheezed at her.

"I'll break his legs if he doesn't follow through," Clarisse said with a shrug. "The punk better listen when I tell him something."

"Er… right," Luke wheezed.

"As entertaining as this was, I do believe that Harry is correct. He is not an official camper, and while we do, on occasion, allow outsiders to join the game, this is primarily a training tool for you, young heroes. While I will not object to him joining the occasional game, please don't count on this being a regular occurrence."

They all nodded obediently, although Clarisse looked mutinous. Then again, Harry thought, she probably always looked that way when she wasn't fighting. She really was like Ares that way.

Ten minutes later, Harry, Annabeth, and Silena were walking on the beach. It had been some time since Harry had seen the ocean, and after dunking his hand in the water and saying hello to Poseidon, he enjoyed the walk. Even if it was winter and the water was freezing.

"I can't believe you did that," Annabeth said, shaking her head.

Harry grinned. "Mister Chiron said that the flag should be prominently displayed, he didn't say it had to be on the ground. It's not my fault nobody ever looks up."

Silena shook her head with a laugh. "I think that's going to be a rule from now on."

The young boy grinned wider. "Just what I always wanted, to have a rule named after me."

"The decoy will likely be a rule, too," Annabeth muttered. "For the next time someone's good at magic."

Harry laughed. "Two rules named after me in my first game. That has to be some kind of record."

Annabeth pouted. "I'm not sure it's one worth celebrating, Harry," she admonished.

"Sure it is. You heard Clarisse, it's awesome," Silena replied, laughing as well. She turned to look at Harry. "How long can you stay? I bet lots of people will want to talk to you over dinner."

Harry's grin dropped; he didn't like crowds and that 'talk' sounded like it wasn't going to be a nice chat, but instead of an ice cold interrogation.

"Not too much longer," he answered. "I have to get home. I adopted a cat some time ago, and I don't want to leave him alone for too long."

"A cat?" Silena asked, surprised.

Harry nodded. "I asked Mister Helios if I could keep him. He's a good kitty, but he has a bit of a temper if you interrupt his naps. Or if his food bowl's empty. Still, he's nice a soft and loves snuggling up at night, so I'm calling it good."

"Sounds like every cat I've ever known," Silena answered. "Well, other than the snuggling part; some cats like that, other don't."

Harry shrugged. "This one does. He loves being petted, too. And get belly rubs. And every now and again, he loves playing, too – he loves chasing stuff. But not for too long, because he needs his sleep," he ended with a laugh.

"Still sounds like every cat I know," Silena said, laughing as well. "I'd love to see him."

Annabeth nodded. "I love animals," she said. "My family always had dogs, but I can appreciate cats, too."

Harry seemed to think of something. "Can you hang on for a few minutes? I have to go check something."

The two girls looked at each other. "Sure?" Annabeth asked.

Harry grinned. "Be right back!" He took off, sprinting back towards camp. The two female demigods, surprised, chased him. They were just in time to see him vanish into the green flames of Hestia's fire-travel.

He was back within five minutes, and literally almost ran them over.

"There you are!" he greeted, smiling widely. "I just asked Mister Helios and he said it was fine."

"Lord Helios said that _what_ was fine?" Annabeth asked, grey eyes narrowing in annoyance over his secrecy.

"How about a sleepover?" Harry asked. "Mister Helios' temple has enough sleeping space; you can have the entire upper floor to yourselves, if you want. That way you can meet Nemmy, and do stuff. I've never had a sleepover, and it sounds like fun."

Silena and Annabeth looked at each other. "Ehm… would Chiron allow that?" Annabeth asked, sounding as if she didn't want to get her hopes up.

"We really should ask, shouldn't we?" Silena asked, sounding as if she just wanted to say 'yes', grab a bag, and jump through the fire.

"We should," Annabeth replied, sounding as if she wanted to do the same thing just as much as Silena.

"Should ask me what?" Chiron asked, clopping up to the trio. "I heard my name, and noted that someone said they should ask me something."

Harry offered a sheepish grin, but was interrupted before he could say anything.

"Oh dear," the centaur said, before anyone had a chance to speak. "Last time I saw that smile, you ended up in the infirmary, and we ended up with the Athena Parthenos. What do you have in mind this time, young Harry?"

Harry's smile turned brittle. He wished Hestia were here to give him a hug of encouragement. He always felt like he could take on the world after a hug from Hestia. "I… eh… invited Annabeth and Silena to have a sleepover?" he half-asked, half-said.

**AN: I don't know where Silena's sudden zeal for freedom came from, but I do recall a vague memory of having a similar conversation with my best friend back when I was that age.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 27**

Chiron stared down at the three demigods, but at Harry in particular. "I recall a day trip that ended with someone hospitalized, as well as the finding of a large statue that had been missing for 2000 years," the Trainer of Heroes said.

"And an ancient monster got turned back into a human," Silena piped up. Chiron gave her a _look_, and the daughter of Aphrodite looked away, silent and cowed.

"While the results of your previous trip were admirable in many ways," Chiron went on, "Ultimately, the demigods here at camp are my responsibility. If something were to happen, it would be me who the gods would hold accountable."

Harry looked down; he felt bad the centaur didn't trust him. "We'd be on Olympus, though," he said. "We couldn't be safer than on Olympus."

"While Olympus is safe, I don't doubt that you would be able to find trouble, even on Olympus," Chiron stated. "I just do not think it is safe by yourself."

Harry frowned. "I have been taken care of myself since I was 7 years old. Hestia pops by for a chat once a day, but other than that, I do everything myself. Cooking, cleaning, laundry, shopping. I get to bed on time; make sure that I make it to appointments on time, and so forth." He felt a bit insulted at the insinuation that he needed adult supervision. He did well enough on his own, he didn't need anyone telling him what to do and what not to do.

"I thought Lady Hestia took care of you?" Chiron asked, as if wondering whether Harry was lying to him.

Harry looked up sharply, quite definitely feeling insulted now. He remembered why he disliked adults; they never listened. "She takes care of me when I ask, or when something happens, like Mister Ares throwing me to a Hydra for my birthday. Other than that, I take care of myself. She's always available for advice, though, and I needed a lot of it at the beginning, but not so much these days."

"I see," Chiron said, on a tone that declared he would be checking up on this. Silena and Annabeth, however, were staring at Harry.

"Lord Ares threw you at a Hydra?" Annabeth asked.

Harry nodded. "He claims he doesn't do gifts, but surprises, so he surprised me with a Hydra."

"That's one nightmare of a surprise," Silena muttered.

"Not one I'd like to repeat. I only managed six heads before it got me. Luckily, Mister Ares stuck around and cut off the remaining two heads to kill it," Harry explained.

Annabeth gaped, but Silena was frowning. "I thought a Hydra had nine heads?" she asked.

The young Son of Tyche grinned. "It does have nine heads, but you can only cut off eight. If you cut off all nine, they all grow back. Oh, and you have to stop the heads from growing back as you cut them off, so I had to use lots and lots of fire to make sure the wounds were cauterized."

"Whoa," Silena breathed.

Chiron meanwhile, studied Harry. "And if I were to ask Lady Hestia about these claims?" he asked.

Harry glared up at the centaur. Why were adults always so distrustful? He drew a breath, closed his eyes, and folded his hands.

"What are you doing, Lad?" the ancient centaur asked.

The next moment, Hestia strode from the fire, wearing a tight little smile. Chiron, Annabeth, and Silena froze at the sight of the goddess appearing right there and then.

"Hestia!" Harry shouted, glad to see her. He raced over, and gave his all-time favorite goddess a hug. He felt better almost immediately. "Mister Chiron thinks I'm a liar and wants to ask you to confirm that Mister Ares really did throw me at a Hydra, and that I really have been taking care of myself," he explained.

"Oh?" Hestia asked, looking over at Chiron with a look of disappointment in her eyes. "That's not very nice of him. What brought this topic of conversation up?"

"I asked Mister Helios if I could ask Silena and Annabeth for a sleepover," the young boy explained. "He said yes, so I asked Silena and Annabeth over for a sleepover. But Mister Chiron seems to think I'm dangerous or something."

"I see," Hestia replied, softly. "Let me have a little chat with him."

He hugged her again. "You're the best goddess ever, Hestia."

She laughed softly. "I'm really not," she answered humbly, patting his back. "And you're very much welcome. Now, let me have a chat with my half-brother."

As Hestia approached Chiron, who still looked surprised at her sudden appearance, Harry went back to stand with Annabeth and Silena.

"You called one of the major Olympian Goddesses to convince Chiron to let us have a sleepover?" Annabeth asked, sounding completely flabbergasted.

"Hestia's the kindest, gentlest goddess ever, and I was really upset that Mister Chiron seems to think I'm a liar, so I asked if she had some time," Harry explained. "She's not usually too busy to help me when I ask, but there are times when she's needed to help deal with forest fires and stuff like that."

"It's one thing to know that Lady Hestia is your patron goddess, it's another to have her show up when you call," Silena muttered, staring at where Hestia was softly speaking with Chiron, who suddenly seemed rather repentant.

"Hestia's awesome," Harry answered with a smile.

"Even kind and gentle gods don't usually show up when called," Annabeth said softly, as if she didn't want to interrupt the conversation between goddess and centaur.

"Because they're not Hestia," Harry answered with a nod. "When she's at camp, tending the fire, you should talk with her. She loves demigods, but she's not one to put herself forward. If you don't talk to her, she'll assume you're busy and she won't bother you. If you go up to her and talk to her, she'll be more than happy to talk with you."

Annabeth and Silena exchanged a somewhat embarrassed look. "We should," Annabeth said. "I'm sorry I haven't before." Silena nodded in agreement.

Harry remained silent, it was up to his friends whether they talked to Hestia or not. He knew how much she would enjoy the conversation, but he wasn't going to manipulate his friends into doing so.

"Does it seem like Chiron is groveling?" Annabeth asked, changing her focus to the Teacher of Heroes.

"He looks like it," Silena agreed. "And Lady Hestia doesn't even seem mad."

"She's probably explaining that she's disappointed he jumped to conclusions about me," Harry said. "And trust me, having Hestia look at you, and tell you she's disappointed in you, that's the worst feeling in the world. I'd rather have Mister Ares put me in front of that Hydra again."

Before either of the girls could respond, Hestia turned to the threesome and started walking towards them, a gentle smile on her face. Chiron clopped along next to her, a bit more sedate than his usual gate.

Finally, they reached the three demigods. "Harry," Chiron said, "Hestia has explained certain things to me, including verification of your rather incredible tale. I apologize for not believing you."

Harry nodded. Hugging Hestia had made him feel better. On top of that, it had also made him relax and see things with the centaur's point of view. "I understand, Mister Chiron. I forgive you. You probably have a lot of demigods telling you tales."

Hestia smiled proudly at him, and Chiron nodded softly. "Thank you, lad. And I do. Quite a few." The centaur glanced at Hestia, who gave _him_ a smile, too. "I am willing to allow this sleepover, under a few conditions."

The two girls burst out in cheers, and Harry smiled widely. "What conditions are those, Mister Chiron?"

"Just Chiron, please," the centaur said, having repeated that at least a few dozen times over the time since Harry had been introduced to the Camp. "First of all, I would like it if the girls are back before lunch tomorrow."

Harry glanced at his two friends, who didn't seem to mind that rule. "That sounds good to me," he answered honestly.

"Second, if anything – anything at all – happens during this… _sleepover_, please call Lady Hestia. She has agreed to keep an ear out for prayers from any of you, and to come as quickly as her schedule allows."

"Sure," Harry said, immediately. He believed in Hestia, and she would always come when he needed her. Next to him, both Silena and Annabeth nodded.

"Good. Then I think the only thing left for me to say is 'have fun'," the Trainer of Heroes said, smiling.

"Thanks, Chiron!" all they chimed together.

"I'm going to go pack a bag," Annabeth declared, Silena immediately nodding.

"You may want to bring a bathing suit," Harry advised.

Silena just shrugged at his recommendation, but Annabeth narrowed her eyes at him. "It's the middle of December, why would we bring bathing suits?" she asked.

"There is a hot spring out back," the son of Tyche answered. "In case you want a soak."

"Say no more!" Silena said, turning around and sprinting off towards her cabin. Annabeth simply nodded, and raced off as well.

Harry turned to Hestia. "Thanks again, Hestia."

The kind Goddess of the Home graced him with her usual, gentle smile. "You're quire welcome, Harry." She turned serious and looked from centaur to demigod and back again. "Now, will you two be able to play nicely, or should I stay?"

Harry choked back a laugh and was able to camouflage it as a cough. It was the centaur who responded verbally. "You are, as always, welcome here at camp, My Lady," Chiron stated, apparently perfectly serious.

"Thank you, Chiron, but that was not what I asked," she replied, although still smiling at him.

"Everything's okay now, Hestia," Harry said. "Chiron said sorry, after all."

The centaur favored him with a thankful look, and Hestia nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. I so dislike arguments," she commented, smiling first at one, then the other. "I will take my leave, then."

Chiron bid her goodbye, but Harry was able to sneak in another hug before she went.

"Lad, your life is unusual, even for a demigod," the Teacher of Heroes told Harry as they watched Hestia walk to the fire and vanish into it.

"Blame my mom," Harry answered with a grin. "She told me that my powers of Fortune balance themselves in my own lifetime, so I have lots of good luck, and lots of bad luck, and in the end, I end up with no luck, you know?"

Chiron seemed like he wanted to snort a laugh. "I believe there is a Chinese curse that would describe your situation quite well, young Harry," the ancient centaur said. "I believe it says _may you live in interesting times_. I think your life qualifies as 'interesting'."

Harry laughed. "I think so too, Chiron," he answered, remembering to drop the 'mister'. For some reason, he found it hard to do; while he had no issues calling various deities by name, for some reason he constantly had the urge to add 'mister' to Chiron's name.

0000

In the fireplace of Helios' Temple, the fire flashed green, causing a Nemean House Cat, who had been dosing on one of the couches, to look up sharply. A few moments later, three demigods stepped out.

"Hi Mister Helios, I'm back!" Harry greeted, grinning at the sensation of Helios' presence welcoming him. The two girls, not having his experience, froze for a moment at the unusual feeling.

"Don't worry, that's Mister Helios saying 'welcome," Harry explained to them, before facing the couch. "And that's my new cat, Nemmy."

"Oh, he's gorgeous!" Silena practically squealed, dropping her backpack and rushing over to the golden-furred feline. Right before Harry warned her not to rush the cat, she stopped, and held out one hand, palm faced up.

"He is quite handsome," Annabeth agreed, putting her backpack down in a more sedate manner and approaching at a calmer pace. Nemmy sniffed their hands, before seeming to agree to let them pet him.

Soon, he was purring, as the two girls pampered him.

Harry smiled widely; glad to see that his pet accepted his friends.

"He's big, too," Silena said, looking at Harry while her hands continued to pamper the cat. "What kind of cat is he?"

Harry blinked, not having expected that question. He didn't want to come out and just _say_ they were petting a monster – even a reformed monster. That likely wouldn't go over very well.

"He's a Nemean," he said, in total honesty.

Annabeth blinked and looked sharply at him. Silena merely nodded and continued her ministrations, Nemmy seemingly enjoying them and turning this way and that to get her hands to just _those_ spots.

"Golden fur, silver claws and teeth," Annabeth said, her sharp gaze sharpening further. "Haaaaarrrrry?" she asked, drawing out the sounds in a 'you are in such trouble, mister' kind of way.

Silena giggled. "I don't know what's wrong, but it sounds like you're in trouble, Harry!" she teased.

Annabeth ignored Silena and kept her focus on Harry, who suddenly felt like he was being faced down by a miniature Athena. "Tell me that is not the Nemean Lion," the Daughter of the Goddess of Wisdom demanded.

"That's not the Nemean Lion," Harry dutifully replied. "That's Nemmy, the Nemean House Cat. He doesn't become the Nemean Lion unless he's threatened."

Annabeth froze, turned pale, and looked fearfully at the cat, who was on his back by now, getting his belly rubbed by Silena.

"That..." she managed, before her mind kicked in gear. "Silena! That's dangerous!"

Silena looked up. "I don't know what's so dangerous, Annabeth," she answered. "He's just a very soft, very sweet, little kitty. Aren't you?" she asked the cat in a cooing voice. "You're a sweet kitty, aren't you?"

The Nemean House Cat, if possible, purred even louder.

"That's the Nemean Lion!" Annabeth screamed.

"And what's the Nemean Lion?" Silena asked, completely unconcerned.

"The first labor of Hercules? The Lion that had impervious skin? Hercules had to choke it!" Annabeth shouted.

"Please don't shout, Annabeth, I don't like it when people shout," Harry requested. "And yes, Nemmy is that Nemean Lion. I ran across him, and had Hestia's Lasso around his throat, and he obviously remembered what happens when someone squeezes your throat shut, because he surrendered."

Annabeth stared at him in disbelief.

Silena kept petting the cat, listening to Harry but attention firmly focused on the golden-furred feline.

"Of course, I didn't believe him, but Hestia's Lasso compels the truth, so I made sure. And then we struck a deal. Basically, he's my cat, I feed him, give him a safe place to sleep, give him attention, and in return, he doesn't kill people anymore. And, like Silena says, he's a nice kitty now. We had a few ups and downs, but when I explained things to him, he listened," the young boy explained.

"That's awesome," Silena said. "So you have a great big predator living with you." She looked at the cat. "Well, a small predator, anyway."

Harry grinned. "He also loves cuddling up at night for some reason. Let me tell you, nothing says 'I feel safe' like having the King of the Cats next to you."

"As soft as he feels, he doesn't look that dangerous, though," Silena said, suddenly aware that the cat in front of her was giving her a dirty look.

Harry chuckled. "That's because he's a cat right now. Can you step back a moment?"

Silena looked surprised, but shrugged and shuffled away from the cat. "Nemmy, care to show them your other form?"

Nemmy yawned, jumped off the couch, and suddenly was replaced by a pick-up truck sized Nemean Lion. Annabeth let out a scream and hid behind Harry. Silena froze and stared at the huge feline that she had been petting mere moments before.

"Holy-!" she cursed, biting off her curse before she could complete it. "He's huge!" she told Harry.

"Isn't he?" Harry asked, grinning, and casually approaching a very dangerous apex monster. Without stopping, he buried his hands in the Lion's manes, and rubbed vigorously; the Nemean Lion sat on its haunches and gave its lion-type purr.

"He purrs in that form too!" Silena squealed excitedly and raced to the other side, mimicking Harry to bury her hands in the huge cat's fur. "And he's still soft!"

"Now you know why I don't mind him cuddling up at night," Harry said, smiling at his friend over the Nemean Lion's back. "He's soft, and warm, and that purr is really soothing. And, like I said, nothing says 'safety' like a lion the size of a truck, with sharp teeth and claws, sleeping right next to you."

"Is… is he safe?" Annabeth asked, still standing near the fire, as if she wanted to leap back into it.

"He's a nice cat," Harry said. "I wouldn't bring anyone here if I didn't know absolutely sure that he was going to behave, don't worry."

The Daughter of Athena slowly approached, keeping eye contact with the Lion, who gazed back at her, clearly amused at something. Suddenly, she stopped and stared. "He's laughing at me!" she said, affronted.

"He's got a bit of an attitude," Harry answered. "Sorry about that."

Annabeth stepped forward resolutely. "Stop smirking at me!" she commanded. The Nemean Lion, unimpressed, lifted one paw and started licking it in preparation for giving himself a cat-bath.

Annabeth looked like she couldn't believe that she was just blown off like that.

"Like I said, he has a bit of an attitude," Harry apologized as the Nemean Lion proceeded to swipe his huge paw over his equally huge head, his cat-bath now in full swing. "He won't hurt anyone, though."

The Lion stopped washing, and then turned to look at Harry, giving him a look. The boy grinned. "Well, as long as nobody hurts me, anyway." The Lion nodded sharply, and then went back to his bath.

The Daughter of Athena sighed, her shoulders relaxing. "At least he doesn't appear aggressive."

"He knows that if he does, he'll have to go back to the rain and the cold and he'll need to hunt food for himself. As long as he's nice, he gets to stay here, where it's warm and dry and I feed him lots of meat."

The Nemean Lion stopped washing, shrunk back into a Nemean House Cat, and started rubbing against his legs, obviously wanting something. Harry laughed and picked up his pet. "I'll go feed the monster, and then I'll show you where you can sleep."

"Cool!" Silena said, stepping over and petting the cat. Nemmy half-closed his eyes, purred loudly, and looked like he was king of the world.

"I can't believe that this is the same monster Hercules fought," Annabeth said, hesitantly stroking the cat's fur from the other side.

"Monsters come back after a while, so my guess is that he remembered what happened and didn't want a repeat," Harry said as the trio walked to the kitchen. "Considering most monsters were either humans cursed by the gods, or were born from gods directly, I'm thinking most monsters have human-level intelligence. They may think differently because they're not humans, but I think they're plenty smart and able to recognize a good deal when they see one."

"That would make sense," Annabeth said, as Harry bent down and put Nemmy on the ground, next to two large bowls, one of which was about half-full of water. Harry took the two bowls, emptied out the water bowl and refilled it with fresh water, then closed his eyes, brought his hands together, and the empty bowl filled with a mixture of different kinds of meat, all diced into individual bite-sized cubes.

The boy put the two bowls down, and the Nemean house Cat attacked the bowl of meat. "You may want to look away, it's not pretty," Harry advised.

"Too late," both Silena and Annabeth replied, simultaneously, sounding a bit nauseated.

Harry chuckled. "Come on, I'll show you where you can put your bags. How about a nice soak in the hot springs to relax before we think about dinner?"

That sounded just fine with the two girls. A soak would wipe out the visual of the Nemean House Cat… feeding.

0000

"Aaaaaah," Silena, dressed in a modest, hot pink, two-piece bathing suit, breathed throatily when she sunk to her chin into the hot water. "This is _great._"

Harry grinned at her. "Isn't it just? It's great for washing up, too. The water's fed continuously from that pipe over there, and cascades down – it's a great shower. And because it flows continuously, you can just wash up in it and the flow will just carry the dirt away so you always have clean water."

"Seriously, you have the devil's luck," Annabeth, dressed in a conservative navy one-piece, said with a grin, leaning on the side of the pool.

"My luck brings as much misfortune as it brings fortune," he said. "You don't want to know how I lived before I managed to sneak onto Olympus."

Silena floated over and hugged him. "But that part's over now, Harry."

The boy nodded. "I think so, hope so, too," he replied softly. "I still don't think it'll last forever, though. Something will happen to screw things up, something always does."

Silena tightened her hug. "You have lots of people looking out for you now," she said. "If something happens, we'll help."

Annabeth nodded, releasing her hold on the side of the hot pool, and hugged Harry from the other side. "Definitely. Now, stop moping, you're ruining the atmosphere."

Silena snorted, and Harry gave a chuckle. He caught Silena's eyes, and the Daughter of Aphrodite got a wicked grin on her lips.

"Why don't I like the look on your faces?" Annabeth asked wearily.

"Because you're smart," Harry answered with a straight face.

Annabeth seemed flattered by the comment, momentarily forgetting what she was seeing, before she squealed loudly. "Harry! No!"

"Harry! Yes!" Harry said, his fingers digging into her sides under the water's surface. Silena, laughing, floated around the boy and dug into the Daughter of Athena's vulnerable sides as well.

Poor Annabeth giggled, laughed, and squealed loudly as she was being mercilessly tickled. Grabbing a hold of a single thread of coherent thought, she reciprocated, and tickled her attackers right back.

For the next ten minutes, the hot spring out back of Helios' Temple was filled with squeals and peals of laughter.

0000

They emerged close to an hour later, red with laughter and pruned from the water. Harry suggested they get dressed and make their way to the market so they could go and purchase foodstuff for dinner.

Some laughs and running feet later, they had dressed back into regular clothes and left Helios' temple.

"This area is an older area of Olympus," Harry explained as they walked towards the market center. "The temples here were all dedicated to gods that faded long ago." He pointed to two temples not far from Helios'. "Those temples are for Selene and Eos, Mister Helios' sisters," he said. "They faded completely; I tried their temples but they're complete empty."

"That's strange, you'd think that Lord Helios would have faded as well," Silena said.

"Maybe it's due to the fact that he is better known," Annabeth theorized. "I mean, we still use words like 'heliocentric'."

"Maybe," Harry acknowledged with a nod. "Maybe that little trickle of memory is enough to keep him from fading completely, like his sisters."

"Could be," Silena said. "Still, though, I feel sorry for him. Having your entire family fade like that must be incredibly lonely."

The two others nodded, and walked on in silence. As they approached the market square, Harry navigated them down a side street.

"I thought I'd show you around first, we can buy food on the way back," the Son of Tyche explained as he navigated them expertly down some smaller alleys. The two girls grinned and agreed happily.

A few minutes later, they emerged onto a broad lane near the center of Mount Olympus, where the Major Olympians had their temples.

"That is Artie's temple," Harry said, pointing to one building. Grinning, he pointed to a temple on the other side of the avenue. "And you can probably guess who owns that bright golden temple that you need sunglasses to see properly."

Annabeth looked like she was desperately fighting her amusement, while Silena laughed. "I'm thinking – Lord Apollo?" she asked.

Harry laughed. "Exactly. Mister Apollo, as God of the Sun, has a very bright temple."

A voice came from behind the trio, close enough to make them jump with surprise. "Do I hear my name?"

Harry recovered first, and turned around. "Hi Mister Apollo!" he said, greeting the jovial God of the Sun with a big smile. "Silena, Annabeth, this is Mister Apollo, God of the Sun, music, Youth, and loads of other things. Mister Apollo, these are Annabeth, Daughter of Athena, and Silena, Daughter of Aphrodite. We're having a sleepover at Mister Helios' Temple."

The God of the Sun grinned. "A sleepover? Is that what kids are calling it these days?" he teased. Annabeth and Silena immediately blushed bright red, while Harry merely looked confused.

"Yes, a sleepover," the young boy answered wearily. Glancing at his two friends, and noticing their blushes, he looked accusingly at the god. "Are you being perverted again?" he asked.

Apollo spluttered. "Harry! You can't _say_ that!" Annabeth whispered urgently.

Harry frowned at her, confused. "Why not?" he asked. "Mister Apollo's cool. He's just a bit of a pervert every now and then."

Apollo, who had started to inflate at being called 'cool', deflated at the jab, before finally grinning and shaking his head. "One day, Kid, I am going to tease you so badly about this."

Harry shrugged in reply. "So you keep telling me, Mister Apollo," he answered truthfully.

The Sun God grinned wider. "I will let you continue touring Olympus with your two girlfriends." He leaned in and gave the young boy a nudge with his elbow. "You dog, you."

Harry looked confused again, and the blushes were back on the faces of the two girls. "They're my friends who are girls, yes," he answered truthfully, before the look of confusion intensified. "Why does that make me a dog?"

Apollo just laughed loudly. "You'll get it in a couple of years, Kid," the Sun God answered, and sauntered away.

"Mister Apollo is nice and all, but he's really weird sometimes," Harry complained. "I wonder why he called me a dog. That didn't sound very nice."

Silena grabbed his right arm. "Never mind, on with the tour!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, exactly!" Annabeth agreed, taking his other arm.

"Alright?" Harry agreed. "That pink temple over there is dedicated to –" he started to say, but was interrupted.

"My mom!" Silena squealed with a small jump. "That's my mom's temple!"

Harry grinned at her. "Exactly. And that one over there is Miss Athena's," he said, pointing out a slightly larger temple closer to the peak of Mount Olympus. Annabeth looked like she had died and gone to the Elysian Fields, and was visibly restraining herself from asking questions about each and every building.

Noticing this, he leaned closer to her. "I'll see if I can get you a book on the architecture," he promised quietly.

The Daughter of Athena gave him a grateful look. "Thanks," she whispered back.

Straightening up, he continued the guided tour, pointing out each temple and providing some anecdotes on the gods he had interacted with. When it came to Zeus' Temple, however, he made an off-hand motion in the vague direction of the structure.

"And that's Mister Zeus' Temple," he said casually, and went on without another word. The girls giggled slightly, knowing his problems with the King of the Gods, and finding it highly amusing that he would simply brush off one of the most imposing temples on the mountain.

0000

"So what exactly are we having?" Annabeth asked as they traveled back towards Helios' Temple.

Harry grinned. "Homemade oven-fried chicken tenders, hand cut fries, and a nice salad. And I'm making crepes for desert. I thought I'd go for 'simple' rather than experiment."

The two girls laughed, agreeing with him.

They were still laughing when they arrived back at the temple and Harry greeting Helios. Five minutes later, the trip were in the kitchen, where Harry unpacked things with practiced ease.

"Can we help?" Annabeth asked as Harry seemed content to cook. Silena was nodding as well, eager to help.

Harry looked surprised, obviously not having expected anyone other than Hestia ever offer to help him cook, before smiling at her. "Sure," he said, unwrapping the chicken breasts they had gotten at the market. "Can you cut the chicken into strips?" He asked, taking a chef's knife out of the knife block, and flipping it around expertly so he was holding it by the blade and offering it to her handle-first.

Annabeth smiled and accepted the knife. "Sure. How big do you want the strips to be?"

"About an inch wide or so," he said. "Try and cut against the grain if you can." He turned to look at Silena, and offered her a smaller knife, also handle-first. "Can you clean the lettuce and vegetables and cut them into small pieces?"

"Sure!" she said, grabbing the various vegetables and migrating towards a free cutting board.

As the girls cut and cleaned, Harry turned on the oven, and prepared the dried seasonings, as well as a wet dredge consisting of egg and water.

Nemmy, who had been lazily digesting his earlier meal on a couch in the living area, trotted in, and nimbly jumped onto the kitchen table. Sitting down like a sphinx, he surveyed the three children, as if he were supervising.

Harry shot him a smile, then focused on his own prep-work.

When Annabeth was nearly done with the chicken, the Nemean House Cat dropped down from the table, and approached the Daughter of Athena.

"Not on the counter," Harry told him as the small-sized monster tensed in preparation for the jump. The cat ignored him completely and jumped anyway, making the boy sigh.

"Can you put him down on the ground? He knows he's not allowed on the kitchen counter," Harry asked Annabeth, who eyed the tiny monster warily. The cat let out a small meow, and sat on its haunches.

The Son of Tyche sighed. "Cut him some chicken, too. He's all stomach sometimes."

Annabeth kept staring uncomfortably at the cat. "Are you _sure _he's safe?" she asked, having a strange sort of staring contest, where she stared at the cat and the cat just _looked_ at her, simply waiting for her to do its bidding.

"Nemmy's a good cat," Harry re-confirmed. "Just cut off a piece of chicken and hand it to him, then put him down on the floor because he _knows he's not allowed on the counter_," he repeated, with emphasis, addressing the cat.

The Nemean House Cat ignored him, choosing instead to focus on the Daughter of Athena cutting off some chicken and warily holding it out for him.

Like the miniature lion it was, Nemmy simply yanked the chicken out of her fingers, then jumped off the counter on its own accord, before leaving Harry with a look that said _was that so hard_?

The young demigod chuckled and shook his head. Nemmy devoured the chicken, then jumped back onto the table, resuming its position of supervision.

"He's so cute," Silena commented. "He seems to have a will of its own, though."

Harry chuckled. "You know how it goes. Dogs have owners. Cats have staff."

The Daughter of Aphrodite laughed. Annabeth laughed as well, but her laughter was softer. She eyed the Nemean house Cat, who was content to simply sit and watch. Despite her skepticism, it did appear as if the Nemean Lion was content to play the role of house cat.

She turned back to her work, cutting the chicken breasts into strips, letting her mind wander. Suddenly, something popped into her mind.

"Harry?" Annabeth asked as she finished cutting the breasts.

"Hm?" Harry replied, having focused on hand-cutting fries.

"You can conjure food, or even ingredients," she said. "So why the trip to the market, and why are you cooking like this?"

Harry grinned. "First of all, I like cooking, and I will take any excuse to cook," he answered truthfully. "And second, food that you make yourself, from scratch, tastes better than food you conjure. Nemmy doesn't care as long as he gets loads of raw meat, but when I have guests, I want to make sure I offer them the best food I can."

The Daughter of Athena, deciding on not paying any further attention to the strange cat's presence, gave him a hug from behind as he worked on the fries. "That's so sweet," she said.

Harry grinned at her over his shoulder, continuing to cut without even looking at his hands. "Only the best for my friends," he answered casually, before focusing back on his hands.

"Anything else you need help with?" Annabeth asked as she released him. Carving up the chicken breasts hadn't taken all that long and now she felt rather useless, just standing around as the others worked.

"Can you set the table?" Harry offered. "Plates are over there, cutlery is in that drawer, and glasses are in the cupboard."

"Sure!" Annabeth cheered, and turned to her new task.

"Wash your hands first," Harry offered. "Raw chicken can carry salmonella, which is why you never want to touch food with something you used on raw chicken, and why you wash your hands after touching raw chicken."

The Daughter of Athena looked like she should have thought of that herself, and stepped over to the faucet to wash her hands. "You just had me feed Nemmy raw chicken, though," she said as she washed her hands.

Harry chuckled. "First of all, Nemmy's a monster. There's not much he _can't_ eat. And second, cats are predators and carnivores, even normal cats catch birds and eat them raw."

Annabeth nodded in understanding, and started lying the table. For a few minutes, the kitchen felt like it was filled with a happy little family working together.

A yelp from Silena had Harry jump.

"Cut myself," Silena said, before shoving her bleeding finger under the faucet.

"Let me see," Harry said, gently pulling her hand from the streaming water. Blood willed up from the cut almost immediately, making him wince. "Sorry about that," he told her. "I keep my knives really sharp."

"My fault, I wasn't paying attention," the Daughter of Aphrodite replied. "It stings, though."

Harry brought her extended finger up. Closing his eyes, he focused slightly, then reached out and kissed the wound.

"Hey, it stopped tingling," Silena stated in wonder.

Annabeth snorted. "Did you really just kiss it better, Harry?" she asked with a giggle.

Harry grinned, stuck the finger under the water, rinsing off the blood. When Silena's finger emerged, the wound had closed and looked like it was at least a week old. Nemmy had jumped from the table to the counter and was now rubbing his head against her, as if comforting her. Harry gave his cat a smile; it seemed that Nemmy had decided that Harry's friends were now _his_ humans.

"Minor wounds are something I can handle," the young demigod told his friend. "The hearth can heal as well as harm, and minor wounds are within its sphere of influence."

Silena looked at her finger in wonder. "Whatever the reason is, that's really helpful!" she said, excitedly, while rubbing Nemmy's head with her other hand.

"It is, isn't it?" Harry asked with a grin. "Please put him down on the ground, he's not allowed on the counter," he added, indicating Nemmy. As Silena did so, Harry turned to look at her station. "How far along are you?" he asked.

"Just the onion," she told him. "I'm not looking forward to that. Mom's help with my appearance or not, my eyes get puffy and red when I cry and I look horrible."

"While I sincerely doubt that you could ever look horrible," Harry told her, "let me show you a trick that makes sure that you don't cry while cutting onions."

As his back was turned, he didn't see the spectacular blush that sincere bit of flattery earned him. He picked up the onion, opened the freezer, and chucked it inside. "Wait 15 minutes, then cut it, and there won't be any tears. Frozen onions don't produce the gas that make your eyes tear."

"That..." Silena said, having recovered from her blush. "That is _really_ good to know."

Annabeth gave her friend a teasing grin, letting her know her reaction to the unexpected flattery hadn't gone unnoticed. "Is there anything else we need to do?" she asked.

Harry shook his head. "Other than cut the onion for the salad, we have done pretty much all the prep work. I'll get to cooking, and we can eat in about 30 minutes or so," he said.

Half an hour later, they were having a great time talking, laughing, and eating. His food being a success with his friends, Harry felt truly happy; hoping that this was what having family would be like.

"I can't believe you made me eat my vegetables," Silena teased when they had finished the food and Harry was gathering the dishes.

Harry laughed. "Hestia was quite clear on what constitutes a healthy meal, and it's become second nature by now," he explained.

"Besides, that was probably the best salad I ever had," Annabeth interjected.

"The secret lies in the vinaigrette," the boy confided, winking at her, and casually strolling back to the kitchen with the dishes stacked in a neat tower.

"That tells me absolutely nothing," Annabeth pouted.

"Who wants to help me do the dishes?" Harry asked from the kitchen.

Annabeth and Silena looked at each other, neither willing to make the first move.

After a few moments, they could hear Harry's laughter from the kitchen. "Don't both of you volunteer at the same time," he teased.

Both girls flushed, but neither moved, trying to out-stare each other.

"More hands make easier work," Harry told them from the kitchen, over the sound of the running faucet.

Still, neither Silena nor Annabeth moved, before the Daughter of Athena had a brain wave. "Is it customary for you to put your guests to work, Harry?" she asked the kitchen.

"Girls that help with cleanup get to decide what's on their crepe!" Harry shouted back.

Both girls jumped up so fast it looked like they had invented teleportation.

Five minutes later, they were laughing as they did the dishes, bumping into each other, occasionally flicking a couple of drops of water at each other, joking and enjoying the cleanup.

"At least you didn't say we wouldn't get dessert if we didn't help," Annabeth told Harry as she dried a plate.

"I would never deny anyone dessert. Dessert is the most important part of a meal," Harry said, completely and utterly serious. The two girls giggled.

"I somehow think Lady Hestia wouldn't agree with you," Silena teased back as she washed some cutlery, and passed them on to Annabeth to dry.

Harry laughed. "Hestia taught me the importance of a balanced meal. She also taught me the joys of baking, and to make great desserts."

"And I'm thankful that she did," Annabeth said. "Even the batter smells great."

Harry finished scrubbing the last pot and handed it off to Annabeth to dry off. "We'll let the meal settle a little, then I'll whip up the crepes."

"At least we get to choose our own topping," Silena said with a laugh.

"I was considering offering broccoli, but that probably would have gone out of the realm of 'teasing'," Harry said, grinning widely.

Both girls' reactions were both instantaneous and simultaneous. "EW!" they both squealed.

Harry just laughed. "Harry Potter, you are _so_ lucky you didn't threaten with broccoli pancakes!" Annabeth said, glaring like only a Daughter of Athena could.

Harry piously stuck his nose in the air and sniffed. "I don't know what you're talking about. Broccoli is very healthy for you."

Silena looked at Annabeth. "I say we get him for the outrage," she offered.

Annabeth nodded seriously. "Crimes against pancakes must be punished. Severely."

Harry, who realized both girls were serious, suddenly looked worried. Raising his hands in a non-threatening manner, and stepped backwards towards the living area. "I was just joking, you know that, right?"

"Do you know he's joking, Annabeth? Because I sure don't," Silena said, crossing her arms.

"No, I don't know he's joking either, Silena," Annabeth replied, her hands on her hips. "I say we get him until he surrenders."

"Ehm… I surrender?" Harry offered.

"I don't think he's serious," Annabeth stated.

"Agreed," Silena commented, before growling and charging. Harry let out a yelp and made a run for it. Suddenly, he was brought to the ground as Silena jumped on his back.

"I surrender! I surrender!" Harry shouted.

"Still don't believe you!" Silena shouted back, pinning him down. "Get him, Annabeth!"

Annabeth, giggling, dropped to her knees next to the pair. "Prepare to be tickled mercilessly, Harry. That will show you to threaten us with broccoli on our pancakes!"

"But I didn't!" Harry protested.

"You still mentioned that crime against pancakes, and therefore, you must suffer horrifically," the Daughter of Athena stated calmly, her fingers already digging into Harry's vulnerable sides.

"Ahh! No! An-na-beth!" Harry screamed through the laughter. "Stop!" She didn't stop. "Help! Nemmy!"

Annabeth stopped tickling and looked at the Nemean House Cat, who had ensconced himself onto a nearby couch and was watching them wrestle.

"I don't think your cat is feeling it," Silena teased.

"Traitor!" Harry scolded the cat, who seemed so incredibly concerned that he started licking one of his paws.

"Ouch, totally ignored," Annabeth teased, and looked at Silena. "You know, I think the sting of being abandoned by his own pet is bad enough."

The Daughter of Aphrodite nodded thoughtfully. "Agreed. Being tickled goes away, but this is a blow straight to the ego."

As she let him up, Harry grumbled about the horrific things he'd do to them when given the chance. "And you are a traitor," he told Nemmy.

The cat looked at him, blinked both eyes as if in surprise, and went back to cleaning himself.

"Yeah, I still don't think he cares, Harry," Annabeth said with a giggle.

Silena dumped herself in the couch next to the cat, who looked over at her, seemed to think for a moment, then get up and shifted to sit in her lap. The girl cooed and immediately started petting him.

Harry fell back into a couch himself, arms crossed, pretending to be incredibly upset. "I invited you into my home. I cook for you. And in the end, you steal my cat from me," he grouched.

"He just knows a soft lap when he sees one. Don't you, Nemmy? Who's a smart Nemean House Cat?" Silena cooed, rubbing the cat's soft fur more vigorously. In response, the cat purred harder.

Harry, unable to stop himself, laughed at the sight of his friend cooing and playing with a creature who, until a few hours ago, she would have considering an incredibly dangerous monster.

"What?" Silena asked, looking up at him, confused.

"I was just remembering that, until a few hours ago, you thought he was a vicious, bloodthirsty monster," Harry said, still chuckling.

"A few hours ago, I hadn't even _heard_ of the Nemean Lion," Silena protested. The cat in her lap gave her an affronted look, and looked over at Annabeth, obviously thinking about switching laps. "But yeah," the Daughter of Aphrodite went on obliviously, "if I had encountered full-sized Nemmy in the woods? I would have screamed and made a run for it."

The cat settled down on her lap again, mollified by her comment.

Annabeth giggled. "You never run from predators. Running from predators makes them chase you," she said.

Silena pouted silently, and hugged Nemmy. Something which the Nemean House Cat seemed unsure of on how to respond to.

"He loves the attention, really," Harry commented.

"I still can't believe you actually have the Nemean Lion as a pet," Annabeth said, looking at the golden-furred cat on her friend's lap, looking essentially like any other cat.

"And what a good cat he is," Silena cooed again, petting the cat's body, causing him to break out in purrs once more.

The three children fell silent. One of them petting the cat, the other two watching her. The Nemean House Cat's purring was quite relaxing.

"How about a word game?" Annabeth asked. "We could play 'fortunately, unfortunately'."

"Ooh!" Silena said, eagerly. "That one's always fun!"

Harry looked confused. "I don't know that game," he admitted. "How do you play it?"

"Basically," Annabeth said, "You start with a character, and then outline things that happen to him or her, always alternating 'fortunately' and 'unfortunately'. The first player sets up the story. For example, the first player goes 'One day, Little Jonny got a kitten'. The second person adds an 'unfortunate' line. Like 'Unfortunately, it ran away'. The third player flips to a fortunate statement. 'Fortunately, it came back carrying a bag of marshmallows'. And so on."

Harry nodded. "Gotcha. That sounds like fun. Who starts?" The three children looked at each other, then Annabeth pointed at Harry.

"I vote we let Harry start," she said.

Silena nodded. "Agreed. Harry, you're outvoted, you can start."

Harry chuckled, and then tried to affect a put-upon look. "If I must," he said, sounding as if the world's troubles had been put on his shoulders. He thought for a moment, then said, "Bernard's friends dropped him off in the desert as a prank."

"Ouch," Annabeth said. "Unfortunately, they were vicious and had stripped him to his underwear first."

"Double ouch," Silena said, grimacing. "Fortunately, it was night time so he could walk without getting burned."

Harry grinned, getting into the game. "Unfortunately, it was a rocky desert and he had no shoes."

Annabeth winced. "Fortunately, he found some plants he could use to fashion shoes."

Silena grimaced, thought for a second, then said, "Unfortunately, the plants weren't very sturdy and quickly fell apart."

Harry decided to change tack. "Fortunately, the plants were edible, so he could at least eat his shoes when they fell apart."

Annabeth giggled. "Unfortunately, he was allergic to the plants, which gave him diarrhea."

"EW!" Silena protested. "Fortunately, he found an oasis so he at least had water," she added to their story.

"Unfortunately, the water wasn't very good to drink, making things worse," Harry added, causing giggles of protest from his guests.

The laughter went on deep into the night, even after Harry made them all crepes with whipped cream and strawberries.

**AN: ****Just light and fluffy, this chapter. Lots of laughs and lots of bonding. The next few chapters should have some more excitement in them. **

**Just as a note of warning to my readers – tomorrow I start my new job, so my time to write will be drastically reduced, so please don't expect the chapters to keep coming as quickly as they have been in the last few months.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 28**

**AN: You, my dear readers, are awesome. I want to thank everybody who wished me well with my new job (which is going great so far!), and I am beyond grateful that you all seemed to enjoy the excess of fluffiness in the previous chapter.**

**Truth is, when I started writing this story, I was in a dark and scary place; I started to write this story because I needed something light, something that reminded me the world wasn't the dark, bleak place that it seemed to be.**

**Basically, it was wish-fulfillment, a world where I took poor little Harry Potter and gave him an awesome life. Through the time I have been writing this story, it has helped me immensely – and to this day, my greatest reward comes from people who tell me this humble little story of mine has made their day better in some way. Whether it be through a smile, or a laugh, or just feeling better, I'm grateful that this story has been able to make a difference in some small way.**

Harry woke up early, as he usually did. He also found Nemmy purring close by, as had become usual since the Nemean Lion had started living at Helios' temple. Also as usual, the cat had reverted to its full and massive form.

The only thing unusual was the fact that he wasn't in his bed. Instead, he was in the living area, with the Nemean Lion behind him as some kind of soft, furry, and above all _warm_ body pillow. Also present were Annabeth and Silena, who had also spent the night sleeping on top of, or next to, said Nemean Lion.

Silena had sprawled out on top of the huge lion's back; one arm dangling down its side, head tilted so one ear was pushed against the Lion's soft fur. Apparently, its breathing, heartbeat, and lion-like purring were quite soothing as the daughter of Aphrodite had a relaxed smile on her lips as she slept.

On the other side, Annabeth had nestled against the Lion's front legs, and had actually grabbed hold of one of those front legs and was cuddling it like an oversized stuffed toy.

Harry had to repress a chuckle at the sight; Annabeth had been cautious about the Lion for most of the evening, although she had started to warm up to him after a few hours.

Harry stood up, and managed a look at the Nemean Lion's face. The huge cat lazily opened its eyes and blinked slowly; not at all put out at being used as either a pillow, a mattress, or a plushy. In fact, it seemed quite pleased with the setup, and closed its eyes and apparently had decided to go back to sleep.

Smiling widely, Harry made his way to the kitchen area. After preparing foodstuffs for breakfast, and making sure everything was ready for him to start cooking when the others woke up, the young demigod made his way outside.

He didn't know how much time he had, so he decided on a short young-style Tai Chi set. Despite his determination not to sink too deeply, before long he had retreated his senses from the outside world and was fully engaged in the energy flowing through his body as he exercised.

As he moved, a small part of him wondered why Hestia hadn't joined them for dinner the day before. He knew she liked to drop by during a mealtime.

Then, he realized his own words at camp. Hestia would never put herself forward, and she may have thought that it would be better for her not to show up. Harry felt kind of bad about that, Hestia was always welcome to eat with him, and he wished he'd told her that.

Then again, maybe Annabeth and Silena would have been uncomfortable with a goddess at the table.

That part made him feel even worse; he wanted his friends to get along with Hestia. Hestia was awesome, and he wanted his friends to know her well.

He breathed, and let the thought flee. He'd remember and check with Hestia to make sure she wasn't upset later, just to make sure. For now, he had to complete his exercise.

A few minutes later, he stopped, falling back into rest, and breathed out. His senses snapped back into focus; immediately he heard breathing.

He opened his eyes, to find Annabeth and Silena watching him, smiling widely.

"Morning Harry!" Annabeth said, voice sounding excited, followed half a second later by Silena also wishing him a good morning while sounding just as hyped up.

"Was that Tai Chi?" The Daughter of Athena asked. "Is that why you were able to slap Clarisse?"

"Yes, that's Tai Chi," Harry said. "And yes and no," he answered her second question.

Annabeth pouted. "Well that's clear," she stated while Silena chuckled.

Harry grinned. "Every martial art has its use," he explained. "Tai Chi is excellent for many things, but it's not all that I use. I'm learning lots of martial arts, and I basically use a combination of them."

"Oh," The Daughter of Athena said. "That makes sense, I guess."

Harry smiled widely. "I know," he answered with playful arrogance, making the girl pout deeper. "How about some breakfast?" he asked on a more normal tone.

"Ooh! What are we having?" Silena asked.

"I was thinking, French Toast," Harry replied. "I've got enough fresh fruit to make raspberry sauce or strawberry sauce if you would like some."

"Excellent!" Silena said, rubbing her hands together like a movie villain, causing Annabeth and Harry to laugh at her antics.

"By the way," Annabeth said, turning back to Harry, "Nemmy really is a big softy, isn't he?"

Harry grinned at her. "Lions live in groups; I guess he's just happy to have people around him again. Having us crawl all over him probably triggers some instinct for cubs doing the same."

Annabeth nodded thoughtfully. "That could make sense," she said. "Even if he's a monster, he's still a lion."

"Don't let it fool you, though," Harry added. "He's smart. I'm not sure _how_ smart, but smart enough to understand bargains and surrendering and stuff, so he's more than likely smart enough to understand spoken English."

Silena laughed. "That's awesome!"

Harry laughed as well. "That doesn't mean he's not a cat, though. He'll only do something if he wants to, and laze about the rest of the time. Just because he understands us doesn't mean he'll listen."

"As he demonstrated yesterday when he refused to listen to you," Silena said. "Or help you when Annabeth and I tickled you."

Harry pouted at them. "I still feel you overreacted."

Annabeth huffed and looked away theatrically. "You put the awful visual of broccoli pancakes in our minds. You deserved it."

Silena just laughed at Harry's pout.

"You girls are mean," the boy protested playfully.

"Extremely," Annabeth said with a grin.

"Absolutely," Silena concurred. "And don't you forget it."

Harry laughed. "With Artie and Miss Zoë as teachers, I know girls are scarier than guys," he confirmed. "How about we all get dressed? I'll start breakfast while you girls do your secret girl rituals and stuff."

The two girls looked confused.

"I've heard girls take a lot longer than boys to get dressed," Harry said, noticing their confusion.

Silena, quick on the draw, was always up for some fun. Immediately, she asked, "Who told you about the secret rituals?" Snapping around to face Annabeth, she demanded, "Did you tell him about the secret rituals?"

Annabeth, not as quick on the draw as he friend, managed a startled "wha-" before catching on. "I would never betray the sisterhood that way!" she protested vigorously. Two girls turned to Harry and glared. "Who betrayed us?" The Daughter of Athena demanded.

Harry laughed. "I would never betray a confidence like that," he said, strolling passed them. "I'm getting dressed and then I'll start breakfast. It should be done by the time you're done with your… not-so-secret… rituals."

Both girls giggled, and chased him inside.

0000

Harry put the first plate down on the altar in front of Helios' statue, just as he had done yesterday evening, and looked up at the giant figure. "I guess the girls' secret rituals take even longer than I thought," he told his benefactor.

The presence of Helios conveyed both a measure of gratitude, as well as a note of caution, which Harry took as meaning, "Don't let them hear you say that".

Smiling to himself, Harry returned to the kitchen with an empty plate, only to find that Nemmy had finished his breakfast and had decided that the middle of the floor was an excellent place to rest.

That the middle of the floor was the most inconvenient spot possible was of no concern to the feline, who just stayed on its side and turned its head to watch Harry ambling around.

Harry laughed and shook his head. After putting the empty plate in the sink, he leaned down to give the Nemean House Cat a petting.

"A boy and his cat," Silena teased as she entered the kitchen and saw them.

Both Harry and Nemmy looked at the girl, before looking at each other.

Annabeth emerged as well, grinning. "You two should see yourselves," she said. "You both gave her identical looks, it's hilarious!"

"That's because we're awesome," Harry said, holding up a fist towards the cat. Annabeth opened her mouth to respond, when the cat raised one paw and tapped the front of it against Harry's fist.

"Did that cat just fist-bump you?" Silena asked, as if she couldn't believe what she just saw.

Harry laughed. "I told you, Nemmy's awesome." He looked down at his pet. "I told you we'd get someone to freak with that," he said to the cat.

Nemmy nodded. Harry held up an open hand.

"No..." Silena said.

Nemmy tapped the bottom of its paw against Harry's open palm.

"He high-fives, too!" the Daughter of Aphrodite squealed.

Harry laughed and straightened out after giving the cat one last petting. "When he feels like it, yes. He's a cat. Sometimes he likes playing and doing stuff, other times he just wants to lie there and play doormat."

"Like when he sat there and did nothing yesterday when we tickled you," Annabeth said, having taken a seat at the table. Silena, still halfway in shock, just sunk down into a seat as well.

Harry chuckled and turned to the stove after washing his hands. While Nemmy was a monster, and therefore couldn't carry diseases, it was better to be sure. "Quite likely, yes," he said.

"Harry?" Annabeth asked, suddenly curious about something.

"Yes?" he asked with a grin.

"I'm just curious. Where's Nemmy's litter box? I mean, unless being a monster means you don't need to go… you-know."

Harry laughed and turned back to the stove. "Nemmy? Care to field this one?"

The Nemean House Cat gave a theatrical put-upon look at the back of the cooking boy. Finally, he looked at Annabeth, who was looking expectantly at him. Sighing again, he pointed in the direction of the bathroom door with one paw.

"Nooo," Silena muttered, as if she still couldn't believe it.

Harry laughed louder. "Oh yes. Nemmy's awesome, I told you that."

"You _trained_ your cat to use a toilet? Really?" The Daughter of Aphrodite asked.

Nemmy gave her a _look_.

"I didn't need to train him into anything," Harry answered casually. "He knew from the get-go."

The two girls fell silent, staring at Nemmy in adoration. The Nemean House Cat puffed itself up, and gave them a look that said their worship was well received.

For the next few minutes, Harry continued cooking. Suddenly, Annabeth drew his attention. "Harry?" she asked, giving him to pleading-puppy look.

"O-oh," Harry muttered. "What's wrong, Annabeth?" he asked, flipping over the French toast to make sure it browned evenly.

"Will you come with us to camp? For lunch?" she asked.

Harry looked at her with confusion. "Why the pleading eyes?" he asked, before crossing his arms. "Are you planning on putting me in another game? Because you heard Chiron," he asked sternly.

The Daughter of Athena shook her head. "I just wanted to do some tests on your running up walls," she said. "Please?" The puppy-eyes were turned higher.

The young boy grinned. "Sure," he said. "As long as you don't ask me specifics on how I do it."

Annabeth pouted, but nodded. "Deal!" she said, theatrically sticking out her hand. Harry laughed, and shook it. Remembering his earlier thoughts about his all-time favorite goddess, he made a short prayou're to Hestia, asking her if she would like to join them for breakfast as he turned back to his stove. He wanted to be sure that she knew she was invited and that he'd like her here.

Five minutes later, he doled out food to his guests and to himself, feeling a bit disappointed that Hestia didn't show. Then again, she could be busy somewhere. That happened on occasion.

The easy banter and the laughter pulling him away from his thoughts, and he returned easily to the there and then.

0000

It was over an hour later that the three young demigods strolled casually out of the fire at Camp Half-Blood.

"Hestia!" Harry shouted, noticing a certain all-time favorite goddess of his tending to the fire. He quickly stepped over to her and drew her into a hug.

"Hello Harry," Hestia answered, amused, as she hugged him back.

"I thought you might have joined us for dinner yesterday. Or for breakfast this morning," he confided in her.

Hestia gave him a gentle smile. "I heard your prayer earlier," she confirmed. "I thought it would be best if I didn't make things awkward. Most demigods are skittish around gods, and I thought it might make things uncomfortable."

"Oh," Harry answered. "I was hoping you'd get along with my friends, though."

Hestia graced him with a wider smile. "I'm sure I would get along with them fabulously," she answered calmly. "The question is, would they be able to get along with me? After all, as I said, most demigods are skittish around the gods."

Harry pouted at her. "If they never see you, then we'll never know," he replied.

The Goddess of the Home laughed softly. "There is wisdom in that," she said. "Very well, I will join you should you have friends over. I would be most happy to get to know them."

"Thanks, Hestia," Harry said, hugging her just a bit tighter before releasing her.

"Good morning, Lady Hestia," Annabeth said respectfully as the conversation broke up.

Silena nodded. "Good morning, My Lady," she added, just as respectfully.

Harry conceded that Hestia might have been right. The way his friends acted around Hestia could have been very awkward. Hilarious, maybe, but awkward.

"Good morning, girls," Hestia said, kindly. "Did you enjoy your visit?"

Silena just nodded rapidly, a bit more rapid than was generally considered good manners but was obviously governed by the fact that she was nervous around a major goddess.

"We did, Lady Hestia," Annabeth replied verbally, managing to keep her composure better than her friend. "It was a lot of fun."

"I am glad to hear it," Hestia said, still offering her usual, gentle smile. She looked at Harry. "I trust you have been a good host?" she asked.

Harry nodded with a grin. "Of course!"

"He made us eat vegetables," Silena mock complained. Annabeth speared her side with an elbow.

Hestia, meanwhile, smiled in a pleased manner. "That's good. Vegetables are healthy."

Silena, recognizing that she was basically mouthing off in front of a major goddess, attempted to save face. "They tasted really good, though."

"It's the vinaigrette," Harry replied with a smile.

"I'm glad to hear that I won't have to listen to tales of kissing or inappropriately wandering hands," Hestia commented with a teasing grin. A teasing grin that widened when Silena turned red and Annabeth turned white.

"I feel there is a story behind those reactions," The Goddess of the Home said. She was sure that nothing inappropriate had gone on; she trusted Harry implicitly.

"Silena managed to cut her finger while cutting up the vegetables," Harry said. "So I kissed it better."

"Kissed it better, you say?" Hestia asked, still teasing.

Harry nodded. "I kissed it, and the wound closed."

The Goddess of the Hearth stared at him for a few moments. "Your boon increased in strength yet again," she stated. "Please be responsible with its gifts."

"I will, Hestia!" Harry said, eagerly.

The goddess nodded at him, then turned at Annabeth. "That explains Silena's reaction. What had the Daughter of Athena go pale?" she asked.

Harry pouted at said Daughter of Athena. "They tickled me. And Nemmy wouldn't help, the lazy sod."

Hestia gave a sharp giggle. "It sounds like you three had a really good evening."

The two girls nodded, desperately trying not to think about the events that had just been discussed. Harry pouted at not finding any help against friends tickling him.

"I'm very glad you enjoyed yourselves, and that you, Harry, managed to stay out of trouble," Hestia said with a grin.

Harry pouted harder. "Trouble finds me, I don't go looking for it!" he protested.

"Of course, of course," Hestia said. "Nemmy," she reminded him.

Harry frowned at her.

Hestia just laughed. "I should go; I have some work to do. Enjoy your day, girls. Harry, I'll be around for dinner, if that's okay," the Goddess of Hearth and Home said to the three young demigods.

Silena and Annabeth thanked her, while Harry said, excitedly, "Of course that's okay!"

Hestia smiled at him, and then turned to walk back to the camp's fire, doing mysterious things to it.

Desperate to change the subject, Harry turned to Annabeth and said, "You wanted to see me run up walls, right, Annabeth?"

The Daughter of Athena nodded eagerly. "Yes! And we need to do tests to see how much you can carry! And if you need a running start or can start from a standstill! And if you can carry someone! And if you can stop yourself from falling! And – !"

"Good luck," Silena mouthed to Harry, who was staring in silent horror to one of his best friends creating a list that would take up the rest of the day, if not longer.

"Hey, it's the newbie!" a male voice shouted. All three demigods turned, and saw a huge Son of Ares approaching. "Fight me, Newbie!" he demanded. He looked like he was 15 or 16, and built out of pure muscle, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and a white sleeveless t-shirt.

"No, thank you," Harry politely declined and turned back to his friends.

The muscular boy stopped right next to the trio. "I said, fight me, Newbie."

"I must decline. I don't like fighting," Harry said, not at all impressed with the boy's attitude, and turning to walk away.

"Mark, don't be an ass!" Clarisse shouted, approaching from the other side.

"I'll be an ass whenever I want, kiddie," the boy snapped at her. "Now be quiet or I'll kick your ass again."

Clarisse bristled, actually grabbing her spear.

"You're good for a little girl, but you need some more meat on your bones before you can take me," Mark snapped at her, before rounding on Harry.

"Hestia's a useless goddess, anyway, so it figures you're useless, too," He mocked. Loudly. Gasps came from the demigods who heard him; insulting gods was _not done_. Mostly because those gods were full of wrath and vengeance, and would happily smite someone who insulted them. Except Hestia, of course, but nobody ever had anything bad to say about the kind and gentle Goddess of the Home and Hearth.

Harry froze. He didn't care _what_ people said about him, but Hestia was _out of bounds._ Red-hot fury bubbled up from his chest, making him see red and black.

Then, through a haze of anger, he saw Hestia. Hestia, who had heard the words of the demigod. Hestia, who _had _been looking proud as he refused a fight.

She looked sad now, her shoulders dropping just the barest fraction of distance, but noticeably nonetheless.

The red-hot fury that had been robbing him of rational thought turned ice cold, and settled in his gut. As high as his emotions had been, just as low they were now. Where he had been unable to think, now he could do nothing _but_.

And his thoughts settled on one thing and one thing only.

He was going to _break_ this boy.

"MARK! You ass! You don't insult the gods like that!" Clarisse shouted, being held back by two other boys, preventing her from just jumping her brother, size difference or not.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked the boy while looking over his shoulder, completely ignoring Clarisse's shout. Hestia would demand he give the boy a chance to repent. So, he was going to give him a chance to apologize.

"You heard me," the demigod said. "Hestia's a useless goddess. Anyone who has her for a patron has got to be as useless as she is."

The onlookers had hushed before, but now they fell completely silent. Even Clarisse, who had been yelling and cursing, fell silent – especially after she saw the look on Harry's face.

"Kick his ass," she said; her voice was soft, but sounded like a gunshot in the awful silence that clung to Camp Half-Blood.

Harry closed his eyes, balling his fists. "I'm giving you five seconds to apologize," he stated. Children of Ares were thick; he needed to state it aloud. _I'm giving you a chance. For Hestia's sake._

"For what? Telling the truth about the only goddess who's completely and utterly useless?" Mark remarked, laughing loudly.

Harry's balled fists relaxed. The ice cold spread throughout his body, his mind thinking ahead. He was going to break Mark, and he was going to break him badly enough that it would serve as a warning for the future, to anyone who would be foolish enough to even consider insulting Hestia in his presence.

_My advantage, my speed and agility. His advantage, his size and strength. First, rush in. He is right-handed, and will throw an experienced right-hook. Stop immediately, jump out of range, grab his fist as it sails past with right hand. Place left hand behind elbow. Break wrist. Shatter elbow. Dislocate shoulder. Kick back of knee, hard, bringing target to lower level. Release his arm, apply right-handed open-hand strike to windpipe, collapsing the airway and bruising the throat. Drop body. Apply heel-stomp to diaphragm to force-expel air through collapsed airway._

He drew another breath, feeling the cold rationality of thought compelling him forward.

The young demigod rushed in, jumped back to allow the right-hook to fly past, grabbed the boy's right wrist with his own right hand, placed his left hand, and broke the wrist of his opponent; immediately followed by the shattering of the elbow and the dislocation of the shoulder. Harry kicked the back of the boy's knee, hard, doing substantial damage to the other boy's knee and forcing him to the ground, making him land on the knee Harry had just damaged.

Harry released his opponent's mangled arm, ignored the scream of pain that only now appeared, and hit him as hard in the throat as he could with his rigid, open, right hand, making Mark gurgle strangely as his scream was cut off, before letting him drop to the ground and stomping on the boy's diaphragm as hard as he could with his right heel. The air in Mark's lungs was forcibly expelled through his collapsed throat, giving a curious mix of wheezing pain.

Harry stepped back and eyed his broken opponent, who was on the floor, on his back, gasping desperately for breath, eyes filled with tears of pain.

The young boy leaned in. "Never insult Hestia again. I have been trained by Lady Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt; the next time I will draw my knife and practice butchering techniques. And when I'm done, I have a pet that will gladly get rid of evidence for me."

Through his tears, his gasps, and his pain, Mark fully heard and understood what Harry was saying, and he looked afraid. _Really_ afraid.

Harry straightened up, looking at the boy's midsection with a look of distaste on his face. "You just soiled yourself," he said, out loud, where the onlookers could hear him. "You should have put on brown pants so people won't notice. Other than the smell, of course."

"Holy crap," Clarisse yelled. "I'm _glad_ you just slapped me now!"

Harry dipped his head at her, recognizing that she _had_ tried to stop her oaf of a brother. He eyed the two boys who had held her back instead. They released her and raised their hands. His eyes narrowed slightly, contemplating whether they had been on Mark's side or not. They raised their hands higher, as if surrendering to the police. He decided to let it go.

He looked over his shoulder, at the whimpering, gasping, wheezing, crying boy on the ground. "You made me angry. And now I must go apologize to Hestia for that unseemly display," he stated, and walked away. The demigods that had watched the exchange started muttering amongst themselves; mostly revolving around how Mark got what he deserved.

"And this, campers, is why we do not insult each other's patron gods," Chiron said, trotting up. He'd obviously watched the exchange and had chosen not to interrupt; like most, he had a soft spot for Hestia and disliked hearing her being insulted.

The centaur looked with supreme disappointment at the shattered heap that used to be a Son of Ares. "You have a broken wrist and a shattered elbow, a dislocated shoulder, a shattered knee, a collapsed trachea, and bleeding diaphragm. It'll take weeks to get you back on your feet, and you may never get back to how you were. I hope you learned your lesson," he stated firmly and not at all sympathetic.

Meanwhile, Harry walked up to Hestia, the other demigods giving him a respectful, but not fearful, distance. The moment he caught sight of her, the cold released him and his emotions raged back. Rather than fury, he felt anguish – anguish and worry. How would Hestia react? Would he lose her over this?

"I'm sorry, I lost my temper," he whispered to her, looking down at the floor.

Hestia sighed. "You reacted to a provocation," she told him. "It was a glaring provocation, but a provocation nonetheless."

Harry shrunk, feeling rather sure what was coming next. "But," Hestia said, dragging him from his dark thoughts, "I am glad that you're not hurt." She glanced at the Son of Ares, who was being 'helped' to a stretcher by a familiar set of Sons of Apollo under the watchful eye of Chiron. "Even if that boy was… rude."

She hugged him, and he released his breath. "You're a demigod, Harry. Things like this happen. It was to be expected. It is why I allowed Ares and Athena and even Artie and her Lieutenant to help with your training." She glanced at the whimpering boy again. "It seems your training paid off."

Harry nodded feebly, not really knowing what to say. "I do wish you would apologize to him, however. I do not like conflict, and by apologizing to him you will not make an enemy of him," the gentle goddess requested.

The young demigod looked white. "What?" he asked, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Hestia graced him with her usual, gentle, smile. "Please go apologize to him. He doesn't have to accept it, but I would like for it to not become a repeating issue."

Harry's shoulders slumped. That was going to be tough. He just nodded silently; it was Hestia who asked him, and if Hestia asked him, he would obey because she would never steer him wrong.

He slumped towards the Son of Ares, who was now on the stretcher and had been lifted up by a certain set of twin Sons of Apollo.

"Nice job, Harry," Jack – or Jim – said with a wink.

Harry gave the boy a wan smile. "Hestia says I have to apologize," he confided, before turning to the wheezing, broken, wreck of a boy on the stretcher. A boy who still couldn't catch a full breath, and who still looked afraid. Not to mention, in a lot of pain.

"I'm sorry I hurt you that badly," Harry told him. "I should have pulled back a little and let you get in a strike or two; it would have been fairer that way. So – sorry about breaking you like that."

The twins' shoulders shook with repressed laughter. The Son of Ares looked blank, as if he couldn't believe what Harry had just said. Snickers went through the small crowd of onlookers who were close enough to hear. Chiron looked like he couldn't decide whether to laugh or look disapproving.

Harry ignored them all, gave the stretchered Son of Ares a nod of his head, and started to walk away.

"That hurt him right in the pride," the Guy – either Jack or Jim – the one who had spoken to him before – said.

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?" he asked, confused.

The Guys seemed to have no issue holding up the stretcher with the Son of Ares and keep up a conversation at the same time, and they seemed perfectly fine with ignoring his wheezing or groaning. "You just apologized for beating the crap out of him, and apologized for not holding back so he could get in a hit or two – basically implying that it wasn't a fair fight."

"Oh," Harry said, still looking surprised. "I honestly didn't mean it like that," he replied, glancing at Mark. He looked back at the Guy he was talking to. "As long as he doesn't insult Hestia again."

The Guy looked amused, still repressing laughter. "Whatever you say, Harry," he said. "Let's go!" he told his brother, who gave a nod. In perfect sync, they started walking towards the infirmary.

Harry just watched as they stretchered the injured Son of Ares to the infirmary, lost in thought, not sure where to go from here. He hated violence, hating hurting people, and now he'd done some major damage to someone. Someone who deserved it, true, but still…

"That was brilliant," Clarisse said, stepping next to him and watching her brother be carted off. "He totally deserved it, the jackass. I'm glad you only slapped me," she repeated.

Harry offered her a tiny, broken grin. "You didn't really want to hurt me, and you never insulted me or Hestia," he answered, before sighing deeply. "I hate violence. Someone always gets hurt."

Silena and Annabeth had joined them by now, but remained silent. Clarisse glanced in the direction of the infirmary and shrugged. "He deserved it."

Harry remained silent.

"Wanna spar?" Clarisse asked, grinning at him.

"What?" Harry asked, pulled from his thoughts and not sure he heard her correctly.

"Wanna spar?" Clarisse repeated, smile widening.

"No thanks," he repeated instantly.

The Daughter of Ares pouted at him. "You sure? Everyone of my brothers and sisters are gonna bug you for a spar now. As long as it's a spar. Injuries are part of the game, but things that take weeks to heal, even with ambrosia, aren't."

Harry shook his head tolerantly. "You Children of Ares are way too into fighting," he said, amused.

"Yup!" Clarisse said, proudly. "Daughter of the God of War, duh!" she added. "Besides, a good spar gets the blood flowing. It's the best way to get better."

Harry was silent for a few moments. "Perhaps," he finally allowed. "I just don't want to hurt anybody."

She laughed and slapped his shoulder. "All the more reason for a spar, so you learn to hold back and _not_ hurt anybody you don't want to hurt. And trust me; learning _not_ to hurt someone can be just as hard as learning how to hurt them in the first place."

"Really?" Harry asked, wondering if she were having him on.

"Hell if I know, but it sounded good," Clarisse said with a laugh. "Come on, Newbie. Let's wrestle for a bit. Show everyone you're not just some maniac about to go psycho and rip people's heads off."

Harry pouted at her. "I'm not psycho," he muttered.

"Only if someone insults Lady Hestia," Clarisse teased.

Harry's face clouded over. "People who insult Hestia get what they deserve," he said.

Clarisse looked at him, and then burst out laughing. "And you wonder why we want to spar with you," she said, before grabbing his shoulder. "Come on, Newbie. Let's wrestle a while. Show everyone there's no hard feelings and all that."

He eyed her again. "Do you really believe that?"

She grinned in answer. "Hell no, but if it makes you spar, I'll say anything."

The young Son of Tyche chortled. "Fiiiine," he said, drawing out the sound. "As long as nobody gets hurt."

She shrugged. "If you say so," she answered, grabbing his shoulder, and practically frog marching him to the training field. As they walked – or, Clarisse, Silena and Annabeth walked and Harry was dragged along – she asked, "What'll it be? Pankration? Regular wrestling? Savate? Anything goes hand-to-hand? Or full weapons?"

"You pick," Harry said, feeling a bit put out at being dragged along while he was perfectly able to walk by himself.

Silena and Annabeth groaned, but Clarisse's smile widened. "I was hoping you'd say that!" she said.

"What about my tests?" Annabeth asked. "You agreed to help me with testing your wall-running," she reminded Harry, now that it seemed that he was going to get dragged into a spar anyway.

"Yes!" Harry said, pointing dramatically at Annabeth. "I agreed to help Annabeth, so I can't really spar," he added, sounding glad to have an excuse.

"You agreed," Clarisse said, her hand tightening on his shoulder. "No backing out now." She looked at Annabeth, and said, "How about a deal? I get him for an hour or so, and afterwards I'll help you with your tests of Harry's wall running. Because I wanna know that shit too."

Harry shot Annabeth a pleading look for help getting him out of this.

The Daughter of Athena looked straight into his eyes, seemingly contemplating making a fuss, before she looked at Clarisse. "That sounds like a deal!" she told the Daughter of Ares.

"Annabeth!" Harry protested.

"Oh, hush, I want to see how you fare against Clarisse when you're not trying to kill her, or stop her from killing you," Annabeth replied casually. "And besides, it's good practice."

Harry pouted. "I thought you were my friend," he said as he was dragged into the arena.

"I _am_ your friend, and this is for your own good," Annabeth said imperiously, giving him a sharp nod to punctuate her words. "We'll be in the stands. Clarisse, try not to hurt him too much."

Clarisse grinned widely. "Can't make any promises," she drawled, depositing Harry in the middle of the arena, before taking a stand a bit further back. The stands were quickly filling up.

Harry sighed. If it meant so much to her, then fine. He wasn't going to pull that read-ahead trick he'd pulled on her brother. For one, he rather liked Clarisse; she was refreshingly honest and direct. And for two, she hadn't insulted Hestia so he wasn't actually mad enough at her to want to beat her into submission.

Suddenly, she said 'go', leapt at him and made a motion to grab him into a hold.

Harry reacted by pure instinct, slipped aside so her grab missed, grabbed her instead, placed his feet in pin-point perfect position, and with a single pivot of his hip pulled her over and slammed her onto her back, firmly pressing her shoulders into the dirt.

"What… the fuck?" Clarisse asked as she looked up at him.

"Your center of balance shifted too much during your charge so it was easy to use your momentum, and your imbalanced stance, against you," Harry explained, extending a hand.

The Daughter of Ares grinned, grabbed his hand, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "You actually do know your shit, don't you?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "I don't want to fight. That doesn't mean I don't know how to when it comes to it."

"Gotcha," Clarisse said, suddenly, out of nowhere, throwing a punch at him.

Demigod reflexes being what they were, Harry managed to duck aside just in time, and grabbed her hand. With a pivot and a small shift of his balance, he was able to yank her off-center.

She let herself fall, which dragged _him_ off-center, and forcing him to release her. As she scrabbled around, she grabbed a handful of sand and threw it at his face.

Harry yelped, blinded by the stinging in his eyes, one hand coming up to rub them even if that was probably the worst thing to do. The next thing he knew, a fist landed in his stomach.

Instincts guided him, and the young boy stepped back before launching a sucker punch, blindly, into mid-air.

Unexpectedly, he hit flesh, and a girlish _oomph_ was audible, followed by someone dropping to their knees, ending with the sound of someone vomiting.

His stinging, tearing eyes started to clear, and Harry was able to see, through a blur, how Clarisse emptied her stomach.

"That wasn't nice," he chided her.

Clarisse gave one last heave, and then looked up. "You got me back for it," she stated clearly, obviously not repentant in the least for the dirty tactic, and not at all upset at having just voided her stomach. "How'd you do that, anyway?"

Harry looked at her, tears still streaming from his eyes. "Luck," he said, completely honestly.

Clarisse chortled and got up. "Fine, keep your secrets," she stated. "That was a good shot."

"Yours, too," Harry admitted, remembering how Ares had told him _it's only cheating if the other guy does it_.

"Again?" Clarisse offered.

Harry shrugged. "Fine," he said, drawing the sound out again.

0000

Harry emerged from the fire at Helios' temple, and immediately sunk into the nearest couch, letting out a huge breath of relief as he did so. Clarisse had been adamant about getting in her wrestling time, and Annabeth had been a slave driver when it came to her tests.

At least now he knew that yes, he really did need that short run-up, that he could carry small loads but not another person, and that he was able to stabilize a fall, but not really slow it down much.

Nemmy crawled into his lap and started purring. Harry's hands automatically started petting him, and just the feeling of a warm purring feline in his lap and his hands going through soft fur relaxed him.

"I'm glad to be home," he muttered, half to himself and half to his pet. Nemmy curled slightly, and dropped his head against Harry's chest, as if listening to his heartbeat.

Taking that as permission, Harry told the Nemean House Cat about his adventures at Camp. The cat had looked up at Harry and given off a smug feeling when Harry described how he'd threatened to feed Mark to him.

The young boy felt like Nemmy had no issues with 'disposing of evidence' if it came down to it. He hoped it was never needed, but it was still good to know that Nemmy had his back.

The cat licked its chops, and then dropped back down as Harry recounted sparring with Clarisse and undergoing Annabeth's tests.

It seemed like Nemmy was far less understanding or supportive when it came to his friends telling him what to do.

A knock sounded, and Harry let out a sigh. He didn't feel up to visitors at the moment. On the other hand, the only ones who came here were gods, and it was never a good idea to not open the door for a god.

Harry picked Nemmy up, and carried him to the front door. With one hand, he pulled open half of the large double doors.

"Artie?" Harry asked, recognizing the Goddess of the Hunt. A Goddess of the Hunt that looked distinctly annoyed. "And Miss Zoë," he added, smiling at his second visitor. She looked emotionless, as she always did when she was annoyed or angry and didn't want it to show.

"Come in," he offered. Immediately, Goddess and Lieutenant practically shoved by him and stepped into the large entry hall of Helios' Temple.

Harry let the door close behind him, wondering what was up, and feeling distinctly on-edge.

"It has come to my attention," Artie said, "that you were in a fight this afternoon. A fight in which you invoked my name. While you are a boy, and I can therefore expect the occasional scrap or fight, I am distinctly displeased that you used my name in doing so."

Harry blinked, and glanced at Zoë, who looked still as cold as ice. Artie went on, drawing his attention back to her upset-looking Goddess of the Hunt. "Please explain your actions."

Harry cradled Nemmy, who had stopped purring and was now giving a cat-glare at both visitors. He held back from hissing, remembering what had happened the last time he had hissed at these particular people, but his entire body felt tense and ready to pounce.

"A Son of Ares wanted to fight me. I declined. He insisted. I declined again. Then he insulted Hestia. He called her useless. And… I maybe… lost my temper?" Harry explained, before hesitatingly trailing off at the end.

Zoë looked dangerous instead of cold now, and Artie's silver eyes narrowed. "He did, did he?" she asked rhetorically.

Harry nodded anyway. "So I kinda beat him up. And then I told him that, if he ever insulted Hestia again, I'd use what you taught me to take my knife and carve him up like a fresh kill."

Artie gave a sharp nod. "I see," she said, still sounding _dangerous_. "Who was this particular Son of Ares?"

Harry shrugged. "I just know he's called Mark, because Clarisse shouted at him to stop being an ass. He's 15 or 16 or so. He looks like he works out, because he's solid muscle."

"I see," Artemis repeated. She paced back and forth a few times. "You did well. I'm glad that I came to hear you before jumping to conclusions."

Harry had the distinct impression that 'jumping to conclusions' had been exactly what the Goddess of the Hunt and her Lieutenant had done, but decided not to call them out on it.

"Now that we have that cleared up, I need to have a chat with an oafish half-brother of mine, and ensuring that he knows to instill proper respect for Aunt Hestia in his various offspring," Artie said, turning to the door.

Zoë, who still hadn't spoken, just nodded at him, and turned to follow her patron.

Harry sighed as the door closed; that had been an uncomfortable little meeting, but he was glad that he'd been able to clear things up regardless. Still, he'd need to make sure that he didn't drop gods' names without making sure that he could handle the fallout from said name-dropping.

"After all this, I need a shower, and I feel like having something different for dinner," Harry told his Nemean pet. "I'm going to go to the market and buy something special for tonight. Wanna come?"

The Nemean House Cat expertly leapt from the boy's arms and wandered back into the living area where he installed himself on one of the couches. Harry chuckled, that answered that question, he supposed.

0000

Harry was walking back toward Helios' temple, bag of specialty food dangling from one arm, when he was suddenly stopped by one beefy hand landing on his shoulder from _somewhere._ The next moment, he heard the dreaded tones of his fighting instructor's voice. 

"I heard you put one of my brats in the infirmary, brat. And scared the crap out of him. Literally." Ares said while accosting him. "I had to find out from a certain Goddess of the Hunt, no less."

Harry shrugged, still feeling a mite upset despite the sparring and the intervening time, and not feeling his usual fear of the God of War because of it. Maybe Artie's visit had exacerbated things? "He insulted Hestia. He had it coming," the young boy replied, testily.

The God of War burst out laughing, and slapped Harry's shoulder, almost driving him to his knees. "True words, brat!" Ares said. "Now, that _does_ mean you're ready to graduate. Well, from basic fighting, anyway."

Harry blinked. "Graduate?" he asked, surprised.

The God of War gave him the typical bloodthirsty grin that the young boy had started to know really well. "Exactly. Now, I don't do gifts, so I have stored a surprise for you somewhere. All you have to do to get to it is defeat its guardian, and it's yours. A graduation surprise, if you will."

The boy blinked, and stared at the God of War. Maybe it was his testy emotions. Maybe it was the sparring with Clarisse. Maybe it was any of a dozen other things, but before he could stop himself, he heard himself mouthing off against the God of War. "It's not an armored swimsuit, is it?" he asked, catching Ares off-guard. It was something that had been bothering him ever since he read his first Wonder Woman comic.

"What?" the God of War demanded, surprised, and not sounding like he enjoyed the feeling.

Harry shrugged again. He was in it now; he may as well press on. With fatalistic determination, he explained, "I'm carrying Hestia's Lasso, Hephaestus' bracers, and Athena's shield. I see a theme, so I hope it's a sword and not an armored bathing suit, right? Because unless I ask Artie to make good on her promise to change me into a girl, I _really_ don't have the legs to pull off an armored bathing suit. Plus, I'm sure my friends wouldn't hesitate to make fun of me if I even tried."

Ares burst out laughing again, and clapped the boy on the shoulder. "It's a surprise, brat! Now, go to the Cave of Caerbannog, and defeat its fearsome guardian. Your surprise is in the cave."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Ares," he said, actually sounding as if he meant it – and part of him really did mean it. Of all the things he could have imagined Ares doing after beating up one of his kids, giving him a gift wasn't one of them.

The God of War grinned. "Have fun, brat!" the God of War chortled, turned, and vanished.

**AN: yes, I went there. Because I can see Ares having that sort of sense of humor…**


	29. Chapter 29

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 29**

**An: oh, wow, last chapter got a huge amount of reactions! I'll have to disappoint some of you, while making some others very happy… **

**Lots of thanks to Monthy Python and the Holy Grail, because I love that movie and this chapter is full of references and homages to it.**

**To those who keep mentioning Hogwarts – Harry's 9. Hogwarts will come around when he's 11, don't worry. :)**

**As a final reassurance; no, I haven't abandoned this story. My new job is requiring me to learn a very complex and highly specialized set of applications. I have been spending long hours learning and short hours exhausted in bed. ;)**

Deep in the Scottish Highlands, a smoldering campfire flared into life one final time, its flames turning green as they reached for the empty skies. As Harry stepped through, the fire died out, totally spent from its final act of defiance.

The young boy pulled out a map and a compass, oriented himself, and plotted a course. "Caerbannog should be a few hours that way," he told himself, actually pointing in the direction and matching it against his map.

Once again, he silently thanked Artie and Miss Zoë for teaching him how to read maps, and Miss Athena for having such a magnificent library where he could actually find references for the cave he was looking for.

Apparently, it was a little-known cave and appeared on very few maps. He was lucky enough to find this barely smoldering campfire that had been left behind by hikers earlier, or he would have actually been in big trouble getting there.

Even as it was, it would be a substantial hike.

As he walked, he also sulked slightly. Apparently, Nemmy, as a cat, had decided on being lazy and had refused to come on the trip. No matter how Harry tried to cajole, plead, or bribe him, the Nemean House Cat hadn't wanted to leave the warmth and shelter of the crackling hearth in Helios' Temple.

As the biting wind cut through his clothes, and rain started falling, the boy despondently looked up. He understood why his pet had decided to stay behind.

Apparently, Zeus was annoying even when he was across the Atlantic. Harry wondered for a moment whether the Thunder God would ever get tired of making it rain whenever he stuck his nose out the door.

Drawing his jacket closer around his body, he imaged warmth and threw _shen_ at it. Immediately, the cold rain felt like a medium-temperature shower. He felt like throwing a victorious grin at the skies, but managed to refrain. Who knew what the childish King of the Gods would do to him if he knew his rains didn't affect Harry anymore?

The wind picked up, and even warm rain felt cold when cold wind struck it. He imagined more warmth, and followed it up by imagining his clothes to be both warmer and resistent to wind.

Feeling like he were dressed for an arctic expedition instead of a stroll through the Scottish Highlands, Harry proceeded to trek in the direction of Caerbannog, wondering what he was going to find there.

Even Athena's library didn't have much. Apparently, it had once sheltered the Holy Grail, and who- or whatever its guardian was had slaughtered a fair few of the Knights of Round Table, of King Arthur's fame.

Or so the legends said, anyway; Harry had studied enough to know not to put too much faith in legends. They often held a kernel of truth, but when it came to the Holy Grail, he was quite skeptical.

He ducked behind a convenient boulder, sheltering out of the wind and rain, and took out his map. The last thing he wanted was for the rains to damage it.

Making sure he was still going the right way, he put his map and compass away and started walking again.

While he enjoyed the hike, he didn't enjoy the weather.

0000

Harry had been walking for close to two hours, when he came upon the most unusual sight.

A woman and her young daughter seemed to be kneeling and intently studying something on the ground. Both were ignoring the pouring rains or the piercing winds. They were dressed in robes that Harry had only ever seen in fantasy novels, and yet both seemed incredibly comfortable in them.

"Oh, Hello!" the young girl said, looking up from whatever it was they were studying. "Have you come to search for Blibbering Humdingers as well?"

She had long, dirty-blonde hair and grey eyes. For a moment Harry wondered if the mystery girl could be a daughter of Athena, but then he noticed the girl's similarities with her mother.

"I have never heard of Blibbering Humdingers," Harry admitted, curiously, while stepping closer to see what had drawn their interest. He saw nothing out of the ordinary beyond wet ground and wet plants.

"Oh, they're intensely fascinating creatures, the girl said excitedly. "They're supposed to be migrating this time of year, and we were looking for tracks."

Harry nodded, that made sense. "That sounds interesting," he told the girl. "While I'm not looking for Humdingers, I am questing for Caerbannog," he explained and stuck out his hand. "I'm Harry Potter."

The girl seemed to have perpetually wide-open eyes, making her look surprised all of the time, but she easily smiled and grasped his hand. "Yes, you are," she answered, as if confirming what he already knew. "I'm Luna Lovegood."

Harry grinned. "Of course you are," he replied easily.

"I feel that I should point out that Caerbannog is dangerous," Luna's mother said, having stood up and walked over to where the two children were talking.

Harry nodded agreeably. "That makes sense. My teacher said he hid something there as a surprise to me, and it wouldn't be any fun for him if it weren't dangerous. He's just that sort of man."

The woman's eyes narrowed slightly. "That sounds dangerous."

"And exciting," Luna added, grabbing her mother's hand. "Mommy, you're being logical again. You know what Daddy said. It's not healthy."

The woman's shoulders drooped for a moment. "I know, Honey. But sometimes, being a responsible adult means… well, being responsible. And sometimes that means pointing out things that are dangerous."

Luna nodded. "And you have. It also sounds exciting."

Luna's mother rubbed her forehead for a moment, as if debating things. Finally, she turned back to Harry. "Caerbannog houses three things," she said, making Harry perk up. He'd only known it had a guardian and once housed the Grail!

"First, it has a guardian. Swift of foot and sharp of tooth, it will take the head of the unwary," Luna's mother said, as if trying to be overly dramatic. Harry nodded obediently, he'd known about the guardian.

Luna rolled her eyes, and caught his gaze. _Adults_, she mouthed, making the boy grin in answer.

"Second, it has a beast. A black beast. Most who throw an eye upon it do not live to tell the tale," the woman continued.

Harry nodded again, that sounded right up Ares' rather bloodthirsty alley. If she hadn't specifically said it was black, he'd assume it was another Hydra.

"Third, it asks of you three questions. Answer the questions correctly and you may pass. Fail, and you will be cast into the depths of the underworld."

Harry nodded a final time; if he failed that test he'd get to meet Mister Hades sooner than Hestia would have liked, but so far he didn't see any real downsides. Except maybe getting killed by that black beast thing, it sounded quite nasty.

"That still sounds exciting," Luna answered calmly, not scared in the least.

"You're not deterred in the least?" Luna's mother asked. "Most go running at the mention of the name, let alone its deadly contents."

Luna rolled her eyes again. "Those are the same adults that fear a made-up name of a washed-up Dark Lord," she said with the utter conviction of the young.

"Well, I _am_ questing for it," Harry reminded her. "There's no sense in questing for something that isn't dangerous. Besides, my teacher hid me a surprise there. If it weren't dangerous, he'd have hidden it somewhere else. He's rather bloodthirsty in that way."

Luna nodded, as if this made perfect sense. "That makes perfect sense," she told him. "Perhaps he's infested with Nargles."

"That wouldn't surprise me," Harry admitted. Ares looked like he didn't care much about keeping clean, so who knew what he was infested with.

Luna held out a necklace that seemed to have some strange corks attached to it. "A necklace of butterbeer corks can keep them away, maybe you should make him one for his birthday," she suggested.

Harry fought to keep down a smile. Simply imagining Ares' reaction to the young boy giving him such a necklace to 'keep the Nargles away' was beyond funny. Harry, still fighting down laughter, looked at his new acquaintance. "Ares' reaction to me giving him such a necklace would be… funny," he admitted.

Luna nodded, taking both his statement and the name of his teacher in stride. "Of course, the God of War wouldn't wear perfectly functional jewelry," she replied.

Harry nodded agreeably, not surprised in the least that his new acquaintance readily accepted that his teacher was the actual God of War. She seemed like that kind of person.

He found he rather liked her.

"It also explains why you're sent to Caerbannog," Luna went on. "Only the God of War would be psychotic enough to hide something in those caves and then send a mortal after it."

Harry nodded again. "I know, right?" he replied. "He's a brilliant teacher, in so far as he teaches anything, and I'm sure I made a lot of progress while under his tutelage, but there are something I could do without."

"I'm sure he has his moments," Luna said diplomatically. "Would you like some company?"

"I would rather you didn't," Luna's mother said, calmly. "While it may be exciting, it's still dangerous. I'd rather not explain to your father that you got eaten by the Beast of Caerbannog."

Both children looked at her. Harry had forgotten she was there, to be honest. She didn't seem upset, but cautious. She also seemed like that she had a few doubts regarding his teacher, but was willing to take things on faith. He found that he rather liked that in an adult.

"I'd love some company," Harry said casually, turning back to Luna, ignoring how the woman stiffened. "I just don't want you to get in trouble with your mother." He also ignored how she relaxed. "So how about, you come along but just until the cave? It sounds like it could get sketchy and I wouldn't want you to get hurt, either."

Luna's mother seemed to relax further at that statement, a pleased smile at his compromise coming to her lips, but Luna shook her head. "I wouldn't be much of a sidekick if I didn't accompany the hero on the most dangerous part of the quest," she told him.

Harry blinked. "Sidekick?" he asked.

Luna nodded. "You're a hero on a quest, right?"

The young demigod shrugged. "I am on quest, yes, but I wouldn't call myself a hero."

"Only a true hero would decline being one," Luna answered. "And since you're a hero, and you met me, I therefore am a sidekick and that means I am to accompany you on your quest," she added; once again speaking as if everything made perfect sense.

Harry eyed the strange blonde for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm not going to stop anyone from coming with me, but please do be careful. I don't want you to get hurt. Or get in trouble with your mother."

Luna graced him with a smile. "Only a hero would care about strangers he had just met."

The young boy thought about that for a few moments, then decided on channeling Hestia. "We're not strangers," he said. "I know your name, you know my name, and we're going on a quest together. That makes us friends."

Luna's look of surprise seemed like it was more surprised than usual. "Do you mean that?" she asked, softly. She spoke as if she couldn't quite believe what he had just said, despite earlier acceptance of Gods of War and strange quests.

Harry nodded. "Of course I do. You don't joke about friendship."

She graced him with a wide and honest smile, and Harry realized that she probably didn't have a lot of friends. Further channeling Hestia, he acted how he believed she'd want him to act, and he hugged Luna.

She immediately hugged back. "It's ever so nice to have friends," she said. "I only have Ginny, and she has six older brothers who seem quite protective of her. They also don't like me much; they seem to think I'm strange and call me Loony."

Harry released her, and looked in her eyes from close range. "Why's that? You don't seem so strange to me," he answered.

Luna shrugged. "You're pretty strange yourself, questing for a dangerous cave because the God of War hid something there."

Harry laughed. "That's not as strange as it sounds. Ares is… well, Ares."

Luna nodded. "Perhaps we are the normal in a sea of strange," she offered.

"Probably," Harry answered. "Shall we? Caerbannog is _that_ way, I believe."

"While I may be willing to guide you to the cave, I really wish you wouldn't enter," Luna's mother said. "While I can't stop Harry unless I use force, I can and will put my foot down when it comes to you, Honey," she added, eyes focused entirely on Luna. The woman suddenly looked a lot more put-together than she had been until now.

Harry sighed, she suddenly looked like an _adult_ of the bad kind, the kind that would say things like 'putting their foot down' and making decisions for young people without asking their opinion.

"But Mom, I _have_ to. I'm not just a sidekick, I'm a friend!" Luna protested. "And what kind of friend would I be if I let my friend get eaten by some beast in a cave?"

Luna's mother rubbed her forehead again. "Honey, going with you on a search for creatures is one thing. Going to Caerbannog when it can get us killed is another. I'm saying _no_."

Harry sighed; adults were so useless.

"I also wish you would reconsider, young man," the woman said, turning to Harry. "While I can't make the decision for you, I do wish that you'd listen to me. I couldn't live with myself if any young boy got hurt doing something like going to Caerbannog, and that's without taking into consideration that you're _Harry Potter._"

Harry looked even more confused. "What does my name have to do with anything?" he asked, before looking at Luna.

"You're quite famous," the girl explained. "My mom can be a bit high-strung sometimes."

"I am trying to be a responsible adult," the woman said. "It's what's expected of me. Again, I do not want to be the one who has to break the news of you – either of you – being eaten by a beast."

Luna grabbed her mother's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Calm down, Mommy," she implored softly.

The woman drew a deep breath. "Won't you come with us, instead?" she asked. "I'm sure we could get some lovely sand cookies on the way."

Luna leaned closer to Harry. "It's false advertising, I've never been able to find any sand in them," she explained. "They're quire nice, though. I think you'd like them."

Harry grinned at her, amused at her taking the name literally. He then looked up at the hopeful-looking woman.

And shook his head. "I know better than to go with a strange adult," he replied, opening his jacket and lifting his shirt to display the scar he'd gotten when he'd been foolish enough to trust a woman on the streets fo New York. "Last time I trusted a strange woman, I got stabbed trying to escape."

The woman seemed surprised, then angry. "Usually, that's a good attitude to have. But I'm not a stranger," she explained.

"I don't recall you ever giving me your name," he answered with a grin, allowing a bit of sarcasm to seep into his voice.

The woman rubbed her forehead again, as if fighting a headache. "I'm Pandora Lovegood, Luna's mother," the woman finally introduced herself. "And I still wish you would reconsider."

"I'm sorry, Harry. She's a good mom, really, but she's a bit high-strung and overprotective, like I said," the girl offered, before turning to her mother. "Mommy, Harry wouldn't be going alone as we'd be going with him. It's his quest, he _has_ to do it, and he may as well get help, right?"

Pandora muttered something about being surrounded by Lovegoods. "Honey, Caerbannog is-"

"Dangerous, yes, you told us," Luna said, interrupting her mother. "Which is precisely why we can't let him go by himself. Father would have jumped at the chance to explore and see the monsters. Who knows, we could find an English Crumple-Horned Snorkack in the cave."

Pandora sighed and nodded. "That is true," she muttered.

Harry grinned at Luna, who grinned back. Happily, he took out his map and compass, made sure of his bearing, and pointed. "We're going that way."

"Yes, I know," Pandora said, apparently accepting the inevitable. "Will you at least promise to be careful?"

Harry nodded cheerfully, and hooked his arm through Luna's before they started walking.

As they walked off, Luna started on a lovely presentation on the life ofBlibbering Humdingers. As Harry had never heard of the creatures, the lecture was quite informative. Luna was an excellent storyteller.

Pandora, walking behind them, shook her head; every now and then she tried to instill in Harry just how big the danger was he was walking into.

Harry, already familiar with danger thanks to his rather _unusual_ close combat teacher, politely nodded and pressed on regardless. Hestia would have been disappointed if he hadn't been polite, after all.

"Caerbannog is over this hill," Pandora finally said. "Danger awaits you with big, nasty, pointy teeth."

Harry nodded amicably, a small smile on his lips. That sounded like something Ares would cook up, alright. He emerged his shield, bracers, and Hestia's Lasso, ready to protect himself and catch whatever the monster was.

"Ooh, divine weapons," Luna cooed at the sight. "Are they as powerful as they appear?"

Harry grinned. "The shield's awesome, and so are the bracers, and the Lasso – well, nothing compares to the Lasso of Truth."

Pandora, gaping at the divine weaponry on display, said nothing, but Luna nodded thoughtfully. "I can see why you'd think that," she said. "The Lasso does indeed have some advantages the other items lack."

Harry gave her an honest smile. "I'm so glad you agree with me."

Pandora, still saying nothing, just guided them further. As they emerged at the top of the hill, they were finally able to look at what lay beyond it.

A cave was recessed into the hills that lay beyond the top they had just crested; no tree or shrub or blade of grass grew in the small depression. Skulls and bones littered the barren soil, and Pandora immediately motioned for the two children to lie down flat.

The miasma of death and decay that clung to the ground had shattered the mood, and immediately Harry felt like he should have taken Pandora's warnings more seriously. In a quick flick of the eyes, he had counted the remains of dozens of victims; at the same time some sort of deep, rasping, breathing noise was audible coming from the cave.

Harry dropped to the ground, right next to Pandora, Luna not far behind.

"Behold the cave of Caerbannog," Pandora whispered.

Harry and Luna remained motionless for a few moments, before Harry started to straighten up. This was _his_ quest, after all!

"Stay down! There he is!" Pandora hissed, just as something moved near the entrance of the cave, moving out of the shadows and into the pale sunlight of the winter Highlands.

The creature that emerged from the cave wasn't what Harry had expected; it was white, and fluffy, and had red eyes, and looked like a cute little bunny.

And yet, his instincts were beating the drum, warning him of impending disaster if he ever crossed the fearsome guardian.

"It's a Tusked War Rabbit!" Luna said, excitedly, almost rising to her feet but being pulled down by her mother before she could get there.

"Stay down! That's the most foul, bad-tempered rodent you've ever set eyes on!" Luna's mother whispered as she pulled her daughter down.

Harry, still feeling his instincts urging him to turn around and go to be with a cup of hot milk, conjured up a pair of binoculars. "Ehm, Luna?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry?" the blonde asked, as if they were simply strolling along the beach.

"That rabbit doesn't have tusks," he said, holding out the conjured binoculars to his friend.

"It doesn't? Oh, poo!" Luna pouted as she accepted the item and took a look. "It's a regular War Rabbit, then, I suppose," she added conversationally.

"You can conjure binoculars?" Pandora asked, as if desperately trying to take her mind off of what was happening.

"They're just an illusion," Harry said as he stopped feeding the construct energy and letting it dissipate. "If you stop feeding it energy it just vanishes."

Pandora looked like she were about to start a first-degree interrogation of Harry's magical skills, when Luna grabbed her mother's hand and calmed her down before she could speak. "You've got to forgive Mommy, Harry. She's a spell crafter and loves working on magical spells," the girl said instead to Harry.

The young boy nodded and graced them both with a smile. "Sure," he answered, before looking back at the rabbit. It looked like a normal, harmless, little white bunny; however the amount of skeletons littered around the entrance of the cave spoke of its ferocity.

He checked his shield and the Lasso one final time and stood up. "Here goes nothing," he told Luna and her mother, then stepped down the hill.

Towards the rabbit.

Which was still fluffy and white and red-eyed, looking like the pet of children the world over.

His instincts screamed at him to run and not look back. Blinking, he shook his head, trying to clear the emotions. What was _wrong_ with him?

Suddenly, the rabbit _leaped_ and Harry instinctively ducked behind his shield; the next moment _something_ slammed into his defenses with a metallic ringing sound. The impact was ferocious enough that it bruised his arm through the shield and caused his planted feet to slide on the ground.

"What the…?" Harry said, aborted his cuss before he could get in trouble with Hestia. Cautiously, he looked over the edge of his shield. "That would have taken my head off!" He wasn't sure how he knew, but he just _knew_ that the ferocious little monster was going for the neck in order to take people's heads off.

The War Rabbit seemed to glare at him, then leaped again. Harry ducked behind the shield again, causing a second impact that was just as ferocious as the first, deepening the bruising on his left arm.

As soon as the impact abated, Harry lowered his shield and threw the Lasso with his right hand.

Despite the Divine Weapon's agility, the War Rabbit dodged. In fact, it _jinked_, quickly enough to leave after-images. First left, then right, then left again, blurring afterimages fading with speed, before leaping at him again.

Harry barely managed to get his shield up in time, and in fact clipped the rabbit as he did so, sending the ferocious beast tumbling. It somehow landed on all fours and immediately sprung at him again.

Harry dropped and rolled, coming to his feet not far away but managing to making the in-mid-air Rabbit miss. It landed, once more leaving after-images as it sprung about to face its opponent once more.

For a moment, there was a lull, both eyeing the other. "What _are _you?" Harry asked, in exasperation. As he tried desperately to catch his breath, he wished he had an area-of-effect weapon. Something like a grenade. Or a tank.

"It's a genuine War Rabbit," Luna said, from not far away.

Harry looked at her. That break in concentration was all the little monster needed and it sprung at Harry once more.

"Eep!" Harry managed, nearly stumbling over his own Lasso, barely managing to dodge the War Rabbit's flying tackle aimed at his neck. "Will you _stop_ that!" he yelled at it.

The Rabbit seemed disinclined to listen to him, and blurred once more, jinking left, right, left, before _jumping_ at Harry.

Who had his shield up, and braced himself behind it.

A flying white War Rabbit met a braced Celestial Bronze shield with all the speed and impact of a steam train hitting a mountain. Harry yelped as his bruised arm bruised deeper, and his feet dug into the ground from where they were braced.

At the precise moment of impact, Harry actually _pushed_ forward, as if trying to impart extra force to the strike.

The War Rabbit let out a ferocious hissing noise that should _not _be coming from a rabbit's throat, and Harry heard it land.

The Guardian of Caerbannog glared at him, beady red eyes glittering with malice, before it glanced at Luna.

Luna who, despite her mother's best efforts, was standing not too far away, seemingly enjoying an afternoon stroll and had stopped to enjoy the scenery.

The War Rabbit glanced at her, then at Harry, then back at her. And for a moment, Harry could have _sworn_ that the ferocious little beast was smirking.

Harry found himself already moving before it did its leaping attack, and managed to get in front of Luna, crossing his arms and letting the little monster impact the kinetic shield created by his bracers.

He actually saw the War Rabbit touch the shield with all four legs, as if making ready to bounce off of it, when Harry snarled and slapped the bracers together.

He had a basic, theoretical, understanding of what was supposed to happen. However, there is a big difference between knowing that _hitting the bracers will release all their stored energy at once_ and actually seeing it happen.

It was as if he and Luna were at ground zero of a tornado touching down, with rocks and dirt and War Rabbit picked up and thrown backwards at a ferocious speed, striking them against the rocks and walls of the crags surrounding Caerbannog.

The War Rabbit, not having expected that, had struck the rocks with enough force that it was stunned, and Harry, trained by the Huntress as he was, had his hunting knife out in just a moment, and stabbed at the little monster.

The War Rabbit, down but not out, managed to dodge. Slightly. It was groggy, and hadn't the speed it displayed before, and Harry's clean strike designed to end it quickly turned into a jagged slice that bled profusely.

Aborting another cuss, Harry struck again. The War Rabbit, groggy and bleeding, did not manage to dodge a second time. Harry's knife went into the Rabbit's heart, and it stopped moving.

"What a shame, a War Rabbit would have made a great pet," Luna said, with all the airiness of someone commenting on the weather.

"You'd never be able to tame it," Harry said, looking at the rabbit's corpse; a corpse that soon started dissolving into golden motes.

"I didn't know War Rabbits could do that," Luna said, actually sounding awed.

Harry grinned. "It's leaving a Spoil of War," he answered her unasked question. The rabbit's body vanished into golden light entirely, leaving behind a single rabbit's foot on a chain.

Harry frowned slightly and picked it up. His probability senses, the instincts he'd gotten from his mother, warned him.

"A lucky rabbit's foot," Luna commented again. "I never saw what was so lucky about cutting some poor rabbit's foot off myself."

Harry looked at the item in his hands. "This… this isn't a lucky rabbit's foot," he said, looking as if he had been punched in the stomach. "This… this thing is _wrong_."

"Oh?" Luna asked, ignoring her mother making her way own the slopes. From her footsteps, she sounded angry.

"This thing 'helps' the wielder by making everyone around them unlucky. Lethally so, in some cases," Harry explained.

They heard Luna's mother trip over something, followed by a sharp cracking noise and a stream of inventive profanity.

"Mommy?" Luna asked, racing to her mother's side.

Harry was there in a flash as well. Luna's mother managed to take out her wand and wave it at her ankle – an ankle that looked like it had a few extra joints in all the wrong places.

Waving her wand, she studied the results, before uttering more profanity. Luna looked like she was taking notes. Harry knew that Hestia would have a look of supreme disappointment if he ever were to use those words himself, and decided to file them for more appropriate circumstances. Maybe he could get away with them some other time.

"How did I manage a triple compound fracture from a simple trip over a rock?" the woman complained, still studying the results of her spell.

Harry eyed his new spoil. He had a suspicion.

"No matter," the woman muttered, and spelled her ankle. The damage seemed to flow in reverse and within moments, her ankle looked as good as new. "There, that's better," she said, standing up.

Harry was impressed, that ankle looked painful. Maybe he needed to learn some healing as well? He should ask Hestia if it were alright for him to approach Mister Apollo for some lessons; she'd know better if that was alright or not.

"Now, Young Lady," Luna's mother said, looking at her daughter. "I believe I told you to stay with me."

Luna nodded. "You did, Mommy. And then I decided to go closer and have a better view."

Pandora looked like she had a headache. "I expected you to do as I asked."

The young girl nodded. "I know, Mommy. And I expected to be able to see the War Rabbit, so I ignored you."

Pandora _really_ looked like she had a headache now. "You need to listen when I tell you these things, Luna."

The girl nodded obediently. "I listened, Mommy. Then I decided to go closer and see the War Rabbit."

Her mother was rubbing her temples now. "Listening means _obeying_, Luna."

"Ooh," Luna said, as if something suddenly made sense. "I'll try and remember that for next time, Mommy."

Pandora let out a keening noise. "Make sure you do," she said.

Harry caught Luna's eye, wondering if the blonde knew what she had just promised. Luna looked back, her lips twitching. Yes, she did know.

She'd promised to _try._ She hadn't promised _to obey_. Harry grinned at her. She was sneaky. He liked that in a friend; adults were to be humored, they weren't to be obeyed.

"Let's explore the cave the War Rabbit was guarding," Luna said, diverting attention and pointing to the cave.

Harry nodded. "Ares said he put my s_urprise_ in there," he said.

Pandora rubbed her temples. "Sure, let's go explore the cave guarded by the most ferocious rabbit in existence," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Harry looked at Luna, wondering what to do. The blonde beamed at her mother. "So glad you agree, Mommy!" she chirped, completely ignoring the sarcasm, and grabbing Harry's arm before making her way to the cave. Harry, not really needing a lot of encouragement, went along with her, smiling widely.

He liked his new friend a _lot_.

They entered the cave, Pandora trudging along behind them. The cave was dark, and as they descended the ceiling rose until it all but vanished into the gloom.

Holding up one hand, Harry pushed some _Shen _energy into an illusion of light. Thankfully, even illusionary light allowed them to see.

"I really want to study how you do magic," Pandora said.

"Mommy, he's my friend, not a test subject," Luna chided.

"And I would just ask hiom to cast some spells," her mother replied. "Not carve him open to see how he works."

Luna simply nodded, as if such a thing never had crossed her mind, then took Harry further in. He was slightly surprised, he had thought _he_ was supposed to take the lead on this. However, if Luna wanted to do it, he wasn't going to stop her.

Besides, she constantly held his arm, like in the old-timey books in the fiction section of Athena's library. He wondered whether or not he should start calling her _My Lady_ if she kept it up.

As they went deeper, Harry felt like there should have been some kind of heavy breathing noise to accompany the atmosphere. If Ares created this cave, he certainly went all-out to make it feel creepy. The cave was deep, and had the kind of atmosphere that would have inspired dread, if only he wasn't accompanied by Luna Lovegood. Luna Lovegood who seemed to be eternally optimistic and knew only the dictionary definition of the word 'fear', but never actually experienced it.

As they descended, she kept up a cheerful chatter about all kind of strange creatures that lived in caves. Things like a Texan Blind Salamander, which made him think of a fire-breathing lizard with no eyes.

Still, it made him pay attention to_ her_ rather than to the creepy cave, so he was fine with it.

"Over there! Look!" Harry said, interrupting his friend's tale of something called a _cave snail_. He pointed to a section of cave wall, littered with an inscription of some kind.

Luna peered at it. "It seems to be writing of some kind," she said, rubbing her chin, trying to sound as if she were a scholar deciphering the mysteries of the universe.

"Just let me see," Pandora Lovegood said, crowding the two children. "It's Aramaic," she immediately identified.

"What does it say, Mommy?" Luna asked, looking up at her mother, who was intently studying the wall.

"Here may be found the last words of Joseph of Arimathea," Pandora read from the wall. "He who is valiant and pure of spirit, may find the Holy Grail in the castle of _Argh_."

"Argh?" Harry asked, doing an adequate impression of someone screaming while falling to their death.

"Argh," Pandora confirmed with a nod, simply saying the word as written.

"That sounds like a scream of some kind," Harry said.

Luna nodded. "It is very peculiar how the scribe chiseled his scream onto a wall," she said, rubbing her chin again and once more trying to sound like a professor bestowing wisdom upon a student.

Pandora looked freaked out, so Harry turned back to Luna. "What do you think, Luna?"

The blonde shrugged. "We're not after the Holy Grail – besides, that's been found decades ago. The scream was for the dreaded black beast that lived in this cave, but it's dead, so we don't need to pay attention to that either." She smiled cheerfully at him. "Shall we go on?"

"Is there really a Holy Grail?" Harry asked, considering what he knew.

Luna shrugged. "It could be a ruse. Or a fake," she answered breezily, as if it were nothing of importance.

Harry ruminated on her words for a few moments, then decided that Ares had a very surreal sense of humor. If he really created this cave, that was. Maybe he just hijacked it.

"How do you know this?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject.

Luna smiled mysteriously. "A girl has her secrets, Harry. I would have thought that, being friends with quite a few girls, you would have known that already."

The young boy was silent for a few more moments thinking about it, before nodding. "Fine," he accepted. "We're not after the grail and the monster's dead. Let's go on," he said, deciding on trusting Luna's word. Worst came to worse, they'd have to fight a monster and maybe grab themselves a Grail. He knew how his luck worked.

"Splendid!" Luna said, bouncing up and down and clapping her hands before grabbing Harry's arm and pulled him along while making it look like he was the one leading. That last part was new, but Harry didn't mind. Luna was _fun _and Ares' 'surprise' was turning out to be far more surreal than expected.

Pandora remained silent as the children pushed on.

Ten minutes later, the two children and one adult had to skirt around the remains of something with huge horns, too many eyes, and a too-large mouth. Something that was, definitely, most assuredly, dead.

"I wonder who killed it," Harry said. "Especially since it seems to be in remarkable shape and it didn't leave a spoil of war."

Luna shrugged. "It doesn't have any wounds. Maybe it died of a heart attack."

"How do you _know_ these things?" Harry repeated, before answering himself when her smile turned mysterious. "Yes, yes, I know, a girl has her secrets."

Luna hugged his arm tighter. "Girlish secrets and some rituals to certain Great Old Ones who provide knowledge if you know how to ask for it." She winked at him. "But that's a secret, most people frown on that sort of thing."

"Oh," Harry said, thinking that over for a few moments. "That makes sense." He winked at her. "Your secrets are safe with me."

"I know," Luna replied airily, once more dragging him on deeper.

Suddenly, they emerged from the cave into tepid twilight of a waning sun. The path they emerged on was narrow, flanked on one side by mountains and on the other by a sheer drop. Magma bubbled deep below them, spewing smoke into the air and giving the entire scene a sense of heat and dread.

"Ares outdid himself," Harry said. Now _this _was the sort of scenery he'd expected from the God of War – death, mist, sheer drops into boiling lava.

Luna nodded. "The God of War is good at war – even psychological ones."

Harry frowned. "Wait, you said that the Grail had been found and that the monster inside of it was dead. Does this mean that this cave existed before? I mean, your mother knew of it, and knew what was inside of it, so it must have existed before, right? That means Ares didn't create it."

The blonde grinned at him cheerily. "Both can be true, Harry. The God of War created the cave _and_ it existed before."

The boy looked at his new friend with a frown on his forehead. "How does that work?"

"Ares created it just now, hundreds of years ago," Luna explained as if it made perfect sense.

Harry continued to look flummoxed.

"You need to think four-dimentionally," she said to alleviate his confusion.

"My head hurts," Harry muttered, rubbing his forehead. Time travel. Great.

Luna grinned. "Exactly," she said with a big smile, as if his statement of pain was the right answer. "Let's move on. Next we have the Bridge of Death. The old Keeper of the Bridge of Death died, so there's a new one, who looks exactly like the old one."

They shuffled along the narrow path way, before, in the distance, they saw an ancient rope bridge emerge from the fog of the magma deep below. In front of the bridge stood an old man, dressed in a shaggy cloak.

"He asks three questions, answer successfully and you can cross in safety," Luna said. "Answer a question wrong and you are cast into the… well, down there," she said, pointing to the bubbling magma.

Harry winced. Pandora shuddered.

"So, who goes first?" Luna asked, sounding as if she were really excited about going first, and was just asking tobe polite.

Pandora grabbed her daughter by the shoulder and physically pushed her back. "I'll go first. I'm the adult, I have better chances of making it across," she said as she strode forward.

Harry looked at Luna, who pouted like a little girl at not getting to go first. Noticing Harry looking at her, she said, "Adults are silly creatures, aren't they?"

Harry nodded in agreement. "Assuming they know more just because they're older," he confirmed.

Pandora, meanwhile, had reached the old man guarding the Bridge of Death. It looked old and rickety as it swayed in the updrafts coming from the hot lava below.

Harry and Luna casually shifted closer so they could listen in. As they did so, the other end of the Bridge was revealed to them.

On the other side of the gapin chasm was an platform, upon which stood a stone table. It was built from the same volcanic rock as the surrounding crags, and held a long, rectangular box made out of thick cardboard.

"Ares may have created the cave just now, but hundreds of years ago, but he definitely altered the layout just now-now," Luna commented.

"Unless that table used to hold the Grail?" Harry offered.

Luna shook her head. "You saw the inscription, it was held at castle Argh. Not a stone table," she replied as if it were an everyday occurrence.

Harry rubbed his forehead again, his headache was coming back.

Meanwhile, Pandora had reached the Keeper of the Bridge of Death. He was short, old, and decrepit-looking, with a large wart on his nose, a long beard and even longer hair that fell in uncombed mats across his shaggy robe. His right eye was closed, as if he had lost it ages ago, while his left appeared to have no pupil, yet was wide-open and able to see regardless.

"Halt! Who approaches the Bridge of Death must answer me, these questions three!" the Keeper intoned. "Ere the other side he see!"

"Ask me your questions," Pandora replied, trying to sound brave while unable to hide the tremor in her voice.

"What," the Keeper asked, menacingly, "is your name?"

Pandora blinked. "Pandora Lovegood," she answered.

Harry and Luna looked surprised, before Harry face-palmed. "Mister Ares' sense of humor, no doubt. Scare people with nothing," he muttered. "Gods, this is one weird quest."

Luna giggled.

"What," the Keeper went on, just as menacingly, "is your quest?"

Pandora, obviously feeling as confused as the children, and trying to look for the hidden danger, answered hesitatingly, "to make sure my daughter and her new friend make it out of this alive?"

The Keeper leaned in, a nasty smile on his old face. "What," he asked, "is your favorite color?"

"Red," Pandora blurted out without thinking.

"Right, across you go," the Keeper said, suddenly neither menacing or threatening and motioning to the bridge.

"Oh," Pandora said, surprised. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome," the Keeper answered amicably as the blonde woman glanced at the two children before striding across the swaying bridge. She reached the other side without issue.

"Oh, Mister Ares," Harry muttered. "This is awful. If I tell Miss Athena about the level of your questions, she'll laugh at you forever."

"Maybe you shouldn't blab about the God of War to the Goddess of Wisdom," Luna counseled. "Him being the God of War, Ares could make your life very difficult."

Harry nodded. "True enough. Besides, despite everything, I do respect Mister Ares a lot. And sometimes, I even like him. A bit. But don't tell anyone."

Luna grinned at him. "Now you know a secret of mine and I know a secret of yours. I _love_ having a friend!" she said. "Shall we?" she asked, motioning to the Keeper.

"We shall," Harry said, cutting in line and approaching the Keeper.

"Halt!" the Keeper stated, menacing once more. "Who approaches the Bridge of Death must answer me, these questions three, ere the other side he see!"

"Ask me your questions, Keeper," Harry said, trying to remain friendly with the old man.

"What is your name?" The Keeper asked.

"Harry Potter," Harry answered amicably.

"What is your quest?"

"To get the surprise Mister Ares hid for me on the other side," Harry answered.

"What," the Keeper asked, leaning closer and suddenly exuding menace he hadn't before. "Is the next prime number after 317?"

Harry blinked, and answered automatically, "331."

The Bridgekeeper nodded cheerily, and stepped back. "Right you are, go on then."

Harry nodded in acceptance. He hadn't expected the question, but Athena's repetitive drills in mathematics had paid off. He wondered a moment why he got a harder question than Pandora, but then ignored it. He'd answered correctly, that was all that mattered.

"That was impressive," Luna told Harry as he looked at her, suddenly worried for his new friend.

"When you're a student of Miss Athena, you're expected to know a lot of things," he answered.

Luna accepted that answer with a nod as Harry turned to make his way across the bridge.

"Halt! Who approaches the Bridge of Death must answer me, these questions three, ere the other side he see!" the Keeper intoned, once more all menace and doom.

Luna smiled cheerily, as if the atmosphere had no impact on her whatsoever.

"What is your name?" the Keeper demanded.

"Luna Lovegood," Luna answered cheerfully.

"What is your quest?" was the next demand.

"To help my friend on his quest," Luna answered truthfully.

Once more, the Keeper leaned in for his menacing third question. "What," he demanded, "is the average lifespan of the cat known as the Jaguar, known in the scientific community as the Panthera onca?"

Luna blinked, thought for a second, then replied, "15 years on average."

The Keeper nodded and let her pass. As she stepped next to him, Luna turned to the old man, and said, "I am so pleased your learned from your predecessor and learnt to ask precise questions."

The old man nodded. "I know," he answered, shaking his head. "To not know the difference in unladen carrying capacity between European or African swallows is inexcusable in a Bridgekeeper."

Luna nodded once, offered him a friendly smile regardless, and crossed the bridge.

"What was that about?" Harry asked her. From her obsession with animals, he wasn't surprised at her knowledge of life expectancy trivia of various animals, but the comments she made did confuse him.

Luna gave him a grin. "The old Bridgekeeper asked what the carrying capacity of an unladen swallow was. The applicant was confused and asked whether the Keeper meant the African or European swallow; the Keepr replied he didn't know, and was sucked into the lava because he failed to answer the question correctly."

Harry stared at her. "You mean we could have all crossed by asking an unanswerable question?"

Luna smiled mischievously. "Who knows? We all answered correctly, though, so it doesn't matter."

The boy sighed and shook his head in obvious tolerance while they reached the other side.

"Well, here it is," Pandora said, obviously impatient.

Harry grinned at her, then approached the heavy cardboard box sat upon the obsidian table. Carefully, he worked the lid off of it, then turned bright red as he stared inside.

"Hey, it's a pair of swimming trunks!" Luna shouted excitedly and grabbed the item of clothing. "Huh, they're heavy. Like they're reinforced."

Harry turned even redder. "It's a pair of armored swimming trunks," he muttered. "That'll teach me to mouth off against the God of War."

Pandora seemed to be stifling a laugh while Luna giggled mercilessly while playing with the bullet proof piece of clothing.

Harry just blushed and tried to hide his face behind his hands. This was mortifying!

"Hey, this box is a lot bigger than it needs to be for a piece of clothing," Luna remarked. "I think there's something beneath it."

Harry cautiously peeked from behind his hands, and reached into the box again. The bottom felt like foam of some kind, and he was able to peel it back, revealing a second compartment beneath it.

This second, bottom, compartment held a short sword. To an adult, it would have been a long dagger, but to a growing boy like him, it was the perfect size for a one-handed short sword.

"Whoa," Harry said, noticing the exquisite craftsmanship of the weapon. As he reached for it, his eye fell on a note stuck to the bottom next to the weapon.

He picked it up and unfolded it, before letting out a whistle as he read its contents.

"Don't keep us in the dark, ti's not nice," Luna admonished with a small giggle.

"Greetings," Harry read. "I am the God Slayer. When wielding me, know that s sword must be three things," he continued. "One, a sword must be loyal. _Call for me, and I will come to your hand. _Two, a sword must be powerful. _Use me in battle and I will take your enemies' skills for my own._ Three, A sword must be versatile. _Ask me, and I will change size and shape to match the circumstances._"

Luna whistled while Pandora stared at the weapon in the box in shock.

Harry grinned, folded up the note, stuck it in his pocket, and picked out the weapon. Contrary to the swords he'd used at camp, this one was balanced perfectly and it fit in his hand as if molded to it.

"This is awesome," Harry said.

A foreign presence made itself known in his mind, a presence that was both smug and grateful.

Harry wanted to comment out loud on the sword communicating with him, when the foreign presence warned him against the action. Somehow, it seemed to tell him that people didn't react well to weapons with awareness.

So the young boy kept quiet, just staring at his new weapon.

"It said it can change shape," Luna commented. "What can it do?"

Harry kept looking at the sword, and silently asked it to change into an arming sword. Just as silently, the sword grew into a longer one-handed sword, perfectly sized and shaped for Harry's current physical size. Somehow, he knew that the sword would grow along with him.

"Whoa, that's awesome," Luna said.

Harry, remembering some cartoons he had once seen through a crack in his cupboard door, wondered what the limits of the sword were, and what else it could do.

The sword casually informed Harry that it was a sword with minor shape-shifting abilities. It cut people. Sometimes, it stabbed people. And it could, theoretically, do the Sword of Omens trick of shifting from a one-handed short sword to a two-handed longsword. In steps, and on command, even. But it didn't have any of the abilities he was thinking of. No, it couldn't summon any Thundercats, assuming those even existed, nor could it use the Power of Grayskull, should it even exist, to transform someone into he-man, and it certainly wasn't made of Star Metal capable of banishing any Lizard People, should those even be a thing, back to their home dimension.

Harry didn't mind any of those things, he had a shape-changing sword that could turn into the Sword of Grayskull or the Sword of Omens like the old He-man or Thundercats cartoons, even if it couldn't do their tricks.

As a response to his thoughts, the arming sword changed into a short sword that looked identical to the Sword of Omens.

"Neat!" Luna squealed.

"Isn't it?" Harry asked with a huge grin.

Pandora looked like she wanted to get out of there right now, and Harry wanted to go back to the Temple of Helios and experiment with the whole 'take your enemies' powers for its own' ability of his sword. He started having a look around to avoid having to trudge all the way back through the cave, when the young boy found that a scabbard was leaning in a corner not too far away.

It was hidden in plain sight and if he hadn't looked, he probably would have missed it. Picking it up, he asked the sword to change into a shape to fit the scabbard, before girding it on.

He continued his look around, and found a small amount of dead branches that had been wind-swept onto a pile. It wasn't much more than a pile of kindling, really, and Harry guessed he wouldn't get more than five or ten minutes of burn-time out of it, but it was enough for what he wanted to do with it.

"If you can tell me where you live, I can get you home," Harry said as he waved his hand to set the branches alight.

Pandora looked at him like he had lost his mind. Luna, on the other hand, simply told him, as if it were no big deal, "We live at The Rookery."

Harry nodded, turned to the fire, and looked at it. It turned green.

"Not only can you start fires with a wave of your hand, but you can floo from any fire without floo powder as well?" Pandora asked, shocked.

Harry shrugged self-consciously, not really sure how to answer that. Luna grinned, and gave him a hug. "This was fun," she said. "We should do this again sometime. Come and visit, Harry," she ordered.

He gave her a nod. "I will, and we should," he replied with a smile.

"Come along, Mommy," Luna said, taking her mother by the hand and leading her through the fire as if she were a small child. The two vanished and the fire returned to normal.

Seeing that his firewood was all but gone, Harry hurried to get through to Helios' temple before he left himself stranded.

He emerged in the temple, and greeted Helios with a cheerful announcement of his return. Immediately, helios' presence swarmed around him, as if both asking, and looking for itself, whether he was alright.

"I'm fine," Harry said, still cheerful. He drew his new weapon. "Mister Ares left me this. Oh, and a pair of armored swimming trunks. Which I think Luna took, now that I think about it."

Helios' presence felt teasing, references random girls taking what basically amounted to his underwear, and Harry shook his head in tolerance. "Luna's a girl I met on the quest. She's fun," he answered.

As he walked to his bedroom, he continued his chat with Helios. The faded god slipped back into the background afterwards, and Harry sat down on his bed.

"The paper said you grew stronger for defeating enemies," Harry said to his new sword. "How does that work?"

The sword communicated that it could absorb the properties of various substances or energies and bring them forth at will. For example, if it were exposed to a fire-attack, the sword would be able to burn enemies at will, or turn the effect off if Harry wanted a simple cut without it being cauterized.

Harry grinned, and went to a drawer. He took out the two spoils Ares had given him, the ones from when he had been pitched against the Hydra and nearly made it.

"Well now, then you're about to gain venom and acid," he told the blade, before uncorking the vial of Hydra venom, and letting a few drops of the potent poison fall on the blade. The drops were immediately absorbed, but the blade explained that it would need more of the substance if it were to replicate the effect fully.

Harry slowly poured the rest of the venom onto his blade, the weapon absorbing the potent viscous liquid quite readily. When the sword told him it had enough, Harry only had about a quarter of a vial left, but his blade was now able to poison people when it cut.

Or not, if Harry decided against it.

The boy grinned, corked the vial of venom to preserve what little he had left, then took the vial of acid. "Here comes the second one," he said, dropping some of the acid onto the blade.

The potent acid smoked when it touched the weapon, and Harry felt a shudder coming from it. Immediately, he stopped, fearing he was aboout to destroy his new sword, before being told by the presence in his mind that he should keep going.

The blade, despite smoke coming from where it had absorbed the acid, did look pristine, so Harry kept pouring slowly. Like with the poison, he ended up with only a quarter vial left by the time the blade had enough.

But now he had a shape-shifting sword that would come to his hand when called, and could poison people or melt things like acid. Not to mention what else it might learn from fighting enemies in the future.

Ares probably didn't realize just how potent this weapon was, Harry thought. Or maybe he did, and just wanted to be the one to give Harry his most powerful weapon.


	30. Chapter 30

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 30**

**AN: Oh, wow – a lot of reactions to the last chapter as well! I want to thank ****everyone of you who left a comment, both good and bad. Quite a few of you left comments of disappointment regarding Harry's attitude towards adults, so please let me try and reply to those in this chapter. **

**Also, a note of great thanks to the reviewer who pointed out that Ginny has six brothers, not seven. I've corrected that oversight. That's what you get when you're writing while sleep-drunk… **

0000

Harry whistled a happy little jingle that he was making up on the spot as his spatula scrambled the eggs for his morning omelet.

Behind him, he heard the fire of the hearth flash. "I'm in the kitchen!" he said loudly, towards the living area. He wished he could put the utensils down and go race to catch Hestia in a huge hug, but his food would probably burn if he did that.

If there was one thing Harry never wanted to do, it was waste food. He'd been hungry too often in his life.

"Hello, Harry," Hestia said as she stepped into the kitchen. "Good mo-" The goddess seemed to trip over her own feet, but in a remarkable amount of divine dexterity, caught herself.

"Well, that was odd," the Goddess of the Home commented.

Harry gave her a rueful smile, shifted his pan to a low heat, and turned to give her that hug anyway. He was close enough to make sure nothing got burnt. "Good morning, Hestia," he said. "That's the fault of my new spoil."

"Oh? A new spoil?" Hestia asked, extracting herself from Harry's hug and taking a seat at the kitchen table. "Did it come from that quest that Ares sent you on?"

Harry's smile turned brittle. "You… ah… know about that?" he asked.

Hestia graced him with a gentle smile. "Harry, I care for you and look out for you. Of course I knew that Ares sent you somewhere. Not in the least because you fire-traveled all the way to Scotland."

Harry, not knowing what to say, turned back to his pan and started doing unneeded and useless things to his omelet.

"Do you want to tell me about the quest?" she asked gently, after a few moments of silence.

Harry distracted himself by throwing some more ingredients into the pan to mix with his omelet.

"Harry?" Hestia asked. "Is everything alright?"

The young boy finished building his omelet and put it on a plate. "It's a bit of a long story," he hedged. "I'm not sure you'll be happy. Would you like some?" he asked, pointing to the plate.

The Goddess of the Hearth shook her head gently. "No thank you, Harry. I've already eaten." As if to add to her answer, she conjured a porcelain teapot and a duo of cups. "Tea?" she offered.

"Yes, please," Harry replied politely. He started eating while the Goddess of the Home poured him a cup.

"So, the quest?" Hestia prompted as she took her cup. Just as she was about to take a sip, the ear of the cup detached, and once again it was divine reflexes that allowed Hestia to catch the cup with her other hand before it hit the ground. "That is very odd," she said. "I just conjured that cup. How is this possible?"

Harry sighed, and started telling her about the quest, and the people he'd met. Luna had been a lot of fun, but her mother had seemed rather annoying, with her attempts to stop him.

Hestia, who had put her earless cup back on its saucer before re-attaching the ear, sighed softly when he came to tell her about Luna and her mother, as well as said mother's insistence on safety. "Harry, Pandora was trying to be a good mother. Good parents keep their children away from harm," she said. "Thinking badly of her for trying to stop you and your new friend isn't nice."

The boy's head lowered, staring down at his plate, not knowing how to feel. "Adults are useless," he muttered mulishly.

"I know you haven't had the best of role-models," Hestia gently insisted. "But most adults are good people who only want to protect children, both their own and everyone else's."

Harry's head sunk a bit deeper. He didn't want to contradict Hestia. If she said something, it had to be true. But the examples he'd met had ended up hurting him, and those lessons were earned in blood; they weren't something he wanted to put aside easily.

Finally, he said, quietly, "Adults never help." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "My Aunt and Uncle did what they wanted and nobody stopped them. Nobody helped me. I had to help myself. Like on the streets of New York. Nobody helped me there, either."

Hestia was silent for a few moments, feeling both proud that Harry was able to refer to his aunt and uncle directly, without using 'they' or 'them' as he had been doing when he first met her, and angry at what those people had done to him. She drew a deep breath, trying to ease her temper. Even if she rarely displayed it, she did have it. All of her family had it.

"Then how about me?" Hestia finally asked. "And your teachers? Even Ares, I suppose," she added the God of War reluctantly to the list.

"That's different," Harry said, finally looking up at her. "You're all gods. And none of you hurt me. Well, except for Mister Ares throwing me at that tentacle demon, but he jumped in to help me at the end, and told me he made a mistake. Well, he basically said so, anyway. Besides, I learn a lot from him." Harry had grown over his animosity with the God of War – while Ares' lessons were painful, they were also fair. Or, about as fair as a God of War could be while fighting a nine-year-old, anyway. Besides, Harry got his licks in and he appreciated that.

"And yet, we're all fallible, as much as we like to pretend we aren't," Hestia said, a reassuring smile on her lips. "Like Ares and that Hydra," she added, putting emphasis on the word 'Hydra'. While privately she was highly amused by Harry's description of it as a 'tentacle demon', she would insist on him calling it by its proper name.

Harry pursed his lips, trying not to smile at Hestia's insistence. He knew she wanted him to call the monster a Hydra, but it was so much fun to see her try not to laugh.

"Harry," the Goddess of the Home went on, bringing the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Adults care for children. It is a crime that you haven't met anyone to help you, but not all adults are bad people. Adults can be strict, yes, and adults can try and stop you, yes, but that's because they care and want to keep you safe. Mrs. Lovegood only wanted to protect you."

He hadn't really considered that point of view; all he'd focused on was yet another adult who tried to run his life. "But she tried to stop me," he said, softly.

"Because, as a good adult, she wanted to keep children out of trouble. Especially lethal trouble," Hestia answered. "It's what normal people do, Harry. Normal people don't let children go on quests."

"Oh," Harry whispered, playing with his omelet. He suddenly didn't feel all that hungry. When he glanced up at her, he saw that she was still smiling at him, a fact that made him feel slightly better. He always felt better when Hestia smiled at him.

Nemmy, the Nemean House Cat, chose that moment to wake up from his early-morning nap and sauntered into the kitchen as if he owned it. Still thinking about what Hestia had said, Harry got up, and walked on automatic to the fridge. After retrieving a bowl that held a couple of pounds of sliced and diced beef, he put it down next to the cat's water bowl.

The monster-in-cat-form took two moments to rub cheerfully along Harry's legs to show his appreciation before attacking the small mound of meat.

Hestia eyed the cat as it attacked the flesh, obviously wondering whether Harry was aware that this amount of meat was enough for a regular cat to eat for a week.

Nemmy showed no signs of stopping, and purred loudly as he devoured his meal.

Harry sunk back into his chair, smiling faintly as he watched Nemmy eat. Despite the viciousness of the whole thing, Harry found the purring relaxing.

"I know your life hasn't been easy, and that you have been disappointed by a lot of adults, Harry," Hestia said, to bring the conversation on-topic once more. "You shouldn't treat them all in the same way, there are a lot more good ones than there are bad ones. That doesn't mean you shouldn't be careful, but at the same time, you shouldn't automatically assume that adults are out to get you."

"Oh," Harry repeated his earlier statement. "So how do I know which are the good ones and which are the bad ones?"

Hestia seemed to contemplate what to say for a few moments, then answered, "Exactly the same way you figure out which gods you like and which gods you don't like."

"Oh," Harry said, once again. It was soon becoming a catchphrase, he felt. "So if they try and hurt me, they're bad ones?" He rubbed the scar from where he'd been knifed trying to escape. "But isn't it better to never be in that position in the first place? I mean; trust the wrong adult once and it's over."

Hestia sighed. "Sometimes, you just have to take a risk," she finally said. "Think of your new friend. Her mother seemed like a nice woman, didn't she? Despite trying to stop you, she never actually raised her hand to you."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. Maybe he _had_ been a bit hasty in his judgment.

"Good, then we need not discuss this further. Just remember my words for the next time," Hestia said while smiling gently, taking his nod as acceptance. "I'll always be here to help if you need me, Harry," she added after a few moments, just to make sure that she wasn't coming across too harshly.

"Thanks, Hestia," Harry said, lapsing into silence as he thought things over.

After a few moments of companionable silence, the Goddess of the Home thought of something. "You seemed to be comfortable on the quest, however," Hestia said. "I would have imagined that, after Ares sent you against that Hydra, you would be more worried."

Harry nodded, then shrugged. "He said it was a surprise, and I guess I thought that he knew me better and it wouldn't be another Hydra. Plus, last time he was there and stopped it from killing me so I figured he'd be there again. Or you would be."

"Me?" Hestia asked, surprised.

"If something happened, I know you'd come and help me," Harry repeated with utter conviction.

Hestia blinked, not used to having this much faith placed in her. She was the quiet goddess in the background, people usually dismissed her. She wasn't sure how to feel about the devotion Harry was placing in her.

"And even if things had gone badly, I would have just ended up with Mister Hades a bit earlier," Harry went on. "As long as I'm not a bad person, I know I'll end up alright."

The Goddess of the Home hesitated for a few moments. Realization hit that, with Harry being raised on Olympus, and with him knowing the gods personally, he had lost all fear of death. She wondered what she could say, as it probably wasn't a healthy state to be in for a young mortal.

She would need to think about this, and maybe have a chat with some of her fellow deities. She wasn't sure what could be done; or even if something should be done. In any case, there was nothing she could do about it right now. So, changing the subject, she said, "Now, you were about to tell me about your quest, and how it relates to my bouts of misfortune."

So Harry explained about the War Rabbit at the cave, and the spoil it left. "I call it an Unlucky Rabbit's Foot," Harry said, pulling a keychain out of his pocket. Since Olympus didn't use keys, the keychain was empty, safe for the Unlucky Rabbit's Foot that dangled from it. "It tries to increase _my_ luck by making everyone around me really unlucky. And I mean, _really_ unlucky."

"While I'm glad to hear Ares didn't send you after another Hydra, that guardian still sounded like trouble. I'm glad you made it through alright, though," Hestia said to Harry, before staring at the spoil. "What an awful spoil," she then commented. "Have you tried getting rid of it?"

Harry nodded. "I left it behind at the cave after it caused Mrs Lovegood to trip and break her ankle in a really nasty way. Luckily, she was able to heal herself. When I came back to Olympus, it was in my pocket. I tried throwing it away. A few hours later, I found it lying on the table. It always shows up, no matter what I do, a couple of hours after I get rid of it."

The young boy glared at the spoil on the table. "It feels like it's stalking me," he complained.

Hestia bit back a giggle at the _I-am-most-put-out_ look Harry was sporting, then calmed herself. "Some spoils do return to their owners," she explained. "It's rare, but it happens." She looked back at the keychain. "It's most regrettable that it happens with such a… malicious… item, however."

Harry just nodded. "Anyway, that wasn't the end of my quest," he said, trying to change the subject. He talked Hestia through the rest of the quest, in the end making her giggle as he recounted Ares leaving him a gag-gift.

Harry pouted as she laughed, making her laugh even harder. "Oh, you should see the look on your face, Harry," Hestia giggled.

"It's not that funny," he pouted.

"You mouthed off to the God of War and he pranked you in retaliation," Hestia said, still giggling slightly. "You should feel lucky that Ares likes you. People have vanished for less. Ares doesn't normally retaliate with a prank. He usually retaliates with a sword to the chest."

Harry just pouted. Then paled. Then realized he was in the clear, and pouted again. Nemmy had finished his meal in short order and casually walked over to perch himself on Harry's lap. Within moments, he was having a wash.

"What happened to the armored swimming trunks?" the Goddess of the Home asked, having recovered her composure after a bit more laughing.

Harry's pout deepened. "Luna took them."

The goddess just laughed again.

"What does it mean anyway, when a girl steals your clothes?" Harry asked.

Hestia giggled. "You should find out the answer to that question when you're older," Hestia told him, mirth still in her eyes.

Harry pouted again and crossed his arms. "Again with the when I'm older bit," he complained. "I don't get it. She stole something that's practically underwear, that's not normal, is it?"

Hestia just patted his hand. "It may be perfectly innocent; she probably just likes you and thought it was funny," she said. "I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. Now, I think that you're about to end the quest, weren't you?"

The young boy nodded, and recounted what he found in the box beneath the armored swimming trunks. It was the part he was rather nervous about, the part where he got an offensive weapon of that could be really powerful. The last thing he wanted was for Hestia to be disappointed.

When he finished his tale, Hestia was nodding. "Of course," she said. "Ares being Ares, of course he would try and one-up everyone else and give you a weapon of great potential power. I hope you're careful with it, Harry."

He hadn't even told her about its 'presence' in his mind, still afraid that people would try and take it from him if he did. He knew it was dangerous, but it was _his _now and he wasn't just going to give it up. So, he just nodded to Hestia's admonishment. He knew he had to be careful with it, and he would do his best to do so.

Then again, it was a weapon. Weapons were dangerous by their very nature; Ares' lessons in firearms had proven that beyond a measure of doubt. He would hold himself to treating his sword like he would treat a firearm, that would be safe enough he supposed.

"Good," Hestia said, patting his hand again.

"So you're not… upset?" Harry asked, tentatively.

"Upset?" Hestia asked, surprised. "About what?"

Harry played with his utensils. "You know… about the sword. I know you don't like violence and all that, and a sword really only has one purpose."

Hestia gave him an understanding smile. "No, I don't like violence," she replied. "However, I do know that demigods lead an awfully violent life. I am glad that you have been receiving training, and that you are doing well. The same way, I'm glad various people have been giving you gifts that are incredibly useful, like that sword."

Harry just nodded and Hestia went on, "A weapon is a tool, Harry. It's how you use that tool that matters, and I am quite confident that you will be using it properly."

The young boy just sighed with relief, happy to hear that his favorite goddess wasn't upset with him.

"Besides," she added, "I never said anything about your knife either, did I?"

Harry nodded, his hand reaching for the hunting knife that had saved his own life, as well as the life of Annabeth.

"Now," Hestia said, still smiling. Nemmy had finished his wash and was now curled up on the boy's lap, purring in that kind of relaxed manner of a happily sated cat as Harry pet him. "Can you tell me about your new weapon? You told me about its abilities, but I would like some more explanation."

Harry nodded. He raised his right hand away from Nemmy and opened it. A light blossomed, and within moments he was holding his sword. "It comes to my hand when I call for it, so I don't actually have to carry it. I think I will, though – it turns into a ring as well, and I think it's quicker to transform it from a ring than it is to call it from Olympus when I need it."

Hestia nodded thoughtfully.

"The second is that it can change shape," Harry said, the short sword in his hand changing to an arming sword, a longsword, a katana, and the full-length Sword of Omens. Not that Hestia knew what Thundercats were, or what the Sword of Omens was, but it looked really intricate so it still impressed her.

"It can only take on the shape of bladed weapons, though," Harry added. "So it won't turn into another lasso or something. But it _can _do this," he said. With that, the Sword of Omens shrunk, turning into a steak knife. "It counts as a bladed weapon, so it can change into it."

Harry didn't disclose that the sword's presence was infinitely amused at being turned into a steak knife. Somehow, the presence conveyed the fantasy of Harry eating, using the 'steak knife', only for it to become a sword in the middle of the meal and stabbing the person on the other side of the table.

Harry pushed the presence down. Of course a sword would be a bloodthirsty sociopath.

"The third power," Harry said, trying to ignore the squeamish feeling the sword's imagination had left in his stomach, "is that it can take on the properties of my enemies. For example, it has absorbed the poison of the Hydra, and its acid, too. So, when I want it to, it can poison people or melt things like acid."

Hestia eyed the weapon for a few moments. "Ares seems determined the win the one-upmanship," she commented dryly, her tone indicating she didn't know whether to be impressed or upset. Then, she thought of something. "Since it can absorb properties of your enemies, have you tried having the sword absorb that spoil?" she asked, pointing to the Unlucky Rabbit's Foot.

Harry blinked. "No, I haven't thought of that," he said, turning the 'steak knife' back into a short sword, and aiming it for the spoil. The flat of the blade made contact with the keychain, and stayed there.

Nothing happened.

He tried to stab it, but the rabbit's foot was pushed out of the way rather than be impaled. Once again, nothing happened. Even holding the malicious spoil down before trying to stab it with the sword didn't work; it was as if the Rabbit's Foot was determined to foil the attempts at being stabbed.

Considering its power set, Harry thought he shouldn't have been surprised. He knew first-hand how luck powers could mess with reality.

"I don't think it can absorb the spoil," Harry eventually said with a disappointed pout. "I can't even stab it properly."

"It was worth a try," Hestia said, consolingly. "Maybe the sword can only absorb physical properties, like poison or acid, and not ephemeral things like 'bad luck'."

The young boy just nodded. That made sense. Silence descended as they both thought about the conversation, Harry somewhat lost in thought about adults, and how decent adults wouldn't let children go on quests. It felt unnatural to him; the Dursleys had seen to that. Any adult who put down rules was to be distrusted, he felt. Rules had always been there to harm him, not protect him.

Hestia just asked things of him, never really putting down any rules. His godly teachers told him to do things, yes, but none of them really put down any rules, either. Well, not major ones, anyway. Miss Athena had warned him of the consequences of not treating her library with respect, for example.

It was strange, he now realized, how he could accept things like that from gods but not from mortals. Then again, the gods were different from mortals. Most of them came with Hestia's seal of approval, and they didn't bother him in his daily life. Gods would pull him aside, teach him stuff, then release him.

Maybe he could accept limitations when it came to teaching? Or maybe it really was because they were gods and not mortals, and he trusted gods not to harm him. Too much, anyway. Because of Hestia, probably.

He'd need to think about this some more, it was really confusing. Maybe he'd write to his mother. Writing stuff down usually helped.

As he went over his interaction with Mrs. Lovegood, he thought back to her breaking her ankle, and the thought he'd had.

Hestia was calmly sipping her tea, her repaired cup holding out without issue, while staring at the Unlucky Rabbit's Foot. Maybe she was doing something to it to keep its powers at bay?

"Hestia?" he asked, tentatively.

The Goddess of the Hearth gave him a gentle smile. When Harry turned tentative, he wanted to ask her for something. "Yes, Harry?" she asked, encouragingly.

"Do you think it would be alright if I asked Mister Apollo for some lessons in healing? When Mrs. Lovegood broke her ankle, she was able to fix it really easily, but what if she hadn't been there and it had been Luna who broke her ankle?"

Hestia nodded calmly through his explanation. "While I think Apollo would jump at the chance to teach you some healing, you may want to think carefully about how you approach him," she suggested. "After all, mortals come to the gods with requests all the time. Gods can't honor every request, both because of a lack of time, and because things would get completely out of hand very quickly."

"Oh," Harry repeated his earlier catchphrase.

"That doesn't mean it's a bad idea, Harry," Hestia said, still gently. "I just wanted you to think about how you would approach Apollo."

Harry just nodded silently. "Last time, I just knocked on the door to Mister Hephaestus' temple and asked him a few questions," he said.

Hestia's lips dipped into a tiny frown. "And you ended up with a temporary boon that could have broken your brain, and a three-day job that made you do Hephaestus' chores for him," she reminded him.

The nine-year-old nodded. He'd not thought of the correlation, but now that Hestia said it, it made sense. He'd asked a god for help, and ended up paying for that help. Said payment had helped him out greatly, as well, and he'd ended up with his bracers, but there had still been work and pain involved.

"Good, then I want you to think things through before approaching Apollo," Hestia said, while silently adding '_and that will give me time to have a chat with my nephew before you do'. _

Harry nodded obediently. "How do you think I should ask?" he asked Hestia.

Hestia gave him a smile. "Apollo is an extremely busy god, even if he tries to skirt his duties. He has many different domains, from the sun, to the arts, to music, to healing. While he's also one of the more… approachable… gods, he's also quite susceptible to flattery."

Harry blinked, not having expected that. "What about Artie and Miss Athena?" he asked, returning to the earlier subject. "I mean, their lessons are hard work, but they haven't sent me on any quests for their help."

Hestia's smile widened. "Artie gave you one lesson because I asked her to. She continued to do so because she liked you and was impressed with your work ethic. As long as you continue to work hard, and do nothing to cause her to dislike you, she will likely continue to teach you. Athena, on the other hand, started teaching you because you saved her daughter and got her to camp, and similarly was impressed enough with your work-ethic to continue teaching you."

"Oh," Harry whispered, not having expected that, and lapsing into thought.

Hestia's smile widened. "While I could ask Apollo for you, I do think it's a good lesson for you to do so yourself," she said. "As you grow up, you'll be expected to ask for things yourself after all."

Harry nodded slowly. That made sense. Now he just had to figure out how to ask Apollo for lessons in healing. From what Hestia had said, Apollo liked flattery. Which was a problem, as Harry had no experience flattering people.

"I asked Mister Hephaestus," he reminded her.

Hestia looked amused. "And you know how that turned out," she replied.

The young boy nodded. "With me having a really cool and powerful set of bracers?" he asked impishly.

Hestia's amusement grew more profound. "You know what I am talking about," she replied with a small laugh. "You may want to be careful so you don't end up with a similar experience when you approach Apollo."

Harry turned serious, and nodded. As much as he wanted to joke about the work he'd done for Hephaestus, he did know that the boon he'd received to do so could have done a number on his brain.

0000

Harry carefully arranged the dishes on the table. Today was his turn to host the somewhat-monthly 'maths party' with Hermes and his friends. Last time, he'd gotten to go to Atlantis, the fabled home of Poseidon and Triton and their people when the latter had been host!

That had been a lot of fun, considering Atlantis was underwater and Triton had gotten him something to breathe water.

Unfortunately it had only lasted that evening. Breathing water was awesome. Maybe one day he'd find a way to do it again so he could explore the oceans…

The young boy looked at the dishes, then rearranged them. He was nervous for his first 'grownup' party to go well. The slumber party with Silena and Annabeth notwithstanding, this was the first time he'd actually gotten to invite people for a formal party.

He'd managed to get the invites out via his grandfather – who still didn't like being called such – and had gotten positive replies.

Harry grinned. He was proud of the fact that he'd managed to come up with 'practical applications of game theory'.

Harry stepped back and studied the table. Both the platter with Anglo-Saxon oatcakes and the dish with the candied horseradish were arranged just-so.

He'd been on a bit of a historical food kick lately, and he knew that Bai would appreciate them, at least. The Eastern God was used to savory more than sweet, so the hearty food should fit him better.

Besides, considering the age of the gods, the Anglo-Saxon food might just be a hit for nostalgia reasons.

There was a flash of light behind him, and used to gods coming and going by now, Harry simply turned to smile at the first arrival.

"Hello, Harry," Hermes said with a smile as he ruffled Harry's hair, much to the boy's annoyance.

"Hi Hermes," Harry grumbled back as he tried to rearrange his notoriously messy hair. The God of Thieves simply laughed as his grandson's upset grumbling and took a seat.

"Do you want something to drink?" Harry offered, motioning to one wall, where a table full of different bottles had been pushed. He'd had to talk with Hestia before going out and purchasing a large amount of alcohol, just to make sure that she would know it wasn't for him.

"Sure," Hermes said, suddenly holding a goblet. Harry looked at it, then at the table, and immediately noticed that one of the bottles now was less than completely full.

Harry looked back at the god. "God of Thieves," Hermes stated with a grin before taking a drink.

A clap of thunder heralded the arrival of Harry's next guest. "Hi Thor!" Harry greeted the muscular God of Thunder.

"Hello, Harry," Thor replied, grinning at the boy. "Hermes," he nodded to his fellow deity.

"Thor," Hermes greeted back, taking another sip.

"Drink?" Harry offered, motioning to the table of drink.

"Don't mind if I do," he answered, sauntering over to deliberate the choice on offer.

As the Norse God made a decision, Nemmy sauntered in, having finally deigned to grace the commotion of newcomers with his presence.

Or so it seemed to Harry, anyway, as the Nemean House Cat casually strolled in, and jumped onto the table he'd prepared for the game.

Hermes lowered his goblet and stared at the feline. Thor, finely honed senses warning him, looked over his shoulder to the gaming table, before similarly staring.

Slowly, the Norse God spun around to better study the newcomer.

A flash of light announced the arrival of Triton.

"Hi Triton!" Harry greeted, ignoring how his guests were staring at his pet, who had now sat down and was casually licking its front paws.

"Harry," the Messenger of the Seas replied, curtly, but kindly. Rather than greeting his fellows, the god joined the staring contest with Harry's pet. A pet who didn't seem to realize he even _was_ in such a contest and was now casually grooming himself.

"Harry?" Hermes asked.

"Yes, Hermes?" Harry asked.

"When you told us last time you 'found a cat in the woods' and 'kept it as a pet', I think you left some things out," the God of Travelers said.

Thor nodded. "I do think I would like to hear the full story," he added.

A fourth and final flash of light signified that Bai had arrived. "Hi Bai!" Harry greeted.

"Hello, Harry," the Tiger God answered casually, before noticing Harry's pet. "This I have to hear."

"You guys aren't going to bully my pet, are you?" Harry asked, suddenly worried. "I mean, he's a good cat."

"Good at killing burglars, no doubt," Hermes replied casually. "Honestly, Harry, I think we all need to hear this story."

"Before that, can I get anyone something to drink?" Harry offered, motioning once more to the drinks table, suddenly feeling worried that the maths party that he was supposed to put together was falling apart.

"Already have mine, thanks," Hermes said, sitting down, grabbing a handful of the candied horseradish sticks, and casually aiming them at his mouth. "These are _good_," he declared.

Thor, having grabbed a drink, sat down as well. "You should know better than to talk with your mouth full," he admonished, before grabbing an oatcake and taking a bite. Or rather, it would have been a bite, but instead the entire cake vanished into the god's mouth in one go.

While Triton and Bai sat, Hermes looked at the Norse God, and said, "You Norse don't have any manners, why are you lecturing _me_ about _mine_?"

Thor swallowed, grinned widely, and said, "Trying to set a good example to our young host, of course," he answered with a laugh. "Now, I believe we were about to hear the tale of how Harry got his unusual pet."

Harry grinned, if the guys were joking with each other, all was well. "Well," he said, "It pretty much happened as I said last time. I went on a vacation in the woods and ran across Nemmy."

Hermes and Triton looked liked they were holding in laughter, but Thor and Bai kept staring at the cat.

"Just what is it?" Bai asked. "I know it's a monster, it definitely has the feel of a monster, but it looks like a cat."

So Harry gave a more detailed account of his adventure in the woods.

"Nemmy, the Nemean Lion," Hermes said, covering his face with his hands, interrupting the tale. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry. That's one of the most vicious monsters of our pantheon, and he casually tames it into a house pet."

"We struck a deal," Harry explained. "I had Hestia's Lasso around its neck and was choking it the way Hercules did back in the day, when Nemmy basically… surrendered. So we struck a deal. He would be a good pet, and I would keep him alive and take care of him."

The four gods stared at the cat, who gave all four the kind of 'I am a harmless kitty' look that all cats seem to be able to make from birth. Harry reached out and petted him, making him purr. "Plus, his fur is really _really_ soft."

Thor, never one to back down, was the first to reach over. "You are right, that _is_ soft fur," he concurred. "And that is a really nice purr."

Bai grinned and scratched the cat under the chin. "Being the White Tiger, I fully approve."

Nemmy gave him a stare, before submitting to the scratches.

Harry grinned, happy to see his friends accept his new pet despite its origins.

Hermes shook his head at the sight. "Only you, Harry," he told his grandson. Suddenly, he was holding a brand new deck of cards. "Shall we play?" he asked, unwrapping the box.

Harry grinned and hefted his cat to the ground. "Sure!" he said, taking his seat. The other gods gave various forms of acknowledgment, and gold started appearing in front of the various deities. Harry took a box from beneath the table, opened it, and stacked some of his spoils from the previous games in front of him.

Soon the God of Thieves was dealing cards.

After they exchanged cards, all five stared at their hands.

"I fold," Hermes said, looking disgusted with his hand.

Thor was frowning. "Ditto," he said.

Harry looked at Hermes and Thor, and put a few coins in. Bai threw his cards down with a theatrical flourish, which got Thor and Hermes to look curious. Triton calmly sighed, and folded.

The four gods stared at each other for a moment, then simultaneously looked at Harry.

"Oh _Harry_?" Hermes asked, using the universal tone that indicated someone was in trouble. "What did you do?"

Harry looked confused. "I didn't do anything!" he protested. "Those were brand new cards you just conjured, I didn't even touch them!"

The four gods looked at each other and nodded, that was a good point. "How come we all four got garbage? What hand did you get, anyway?" Bai asked gruffly. Harry didn't take it personally, the White Tiger had his own way of speaking.

Harry showed them his hand. "A pair of twos, I didn't think I'd get anywhere with it," he said, showing a lonely pair of twos.

"Something's fishy," Triton said.

Harry's face lit up in understanding, before glowering angrily. "It's my new spoil," he muttered. "Hang on a sec," he added, before sprinting from the table. Four major deities were left staring at him in confusion.

"Well, now I'm curious," Hermes declared, getting three head nods from his fellow gods.

Thor threw some gold to the center of the table. "Anyone want to bet that it will involve another exciting story?"

Bai, Triton, and Hermes made eye-contact, and as one declared, "Pass."

Thor pouted playfully as he took his gold back. "You guys are no fun."

"We also don't want to throw our money away on a sucker-bet," Triton replied with a tiny grin.

Harry came sprinting back, and plopped a rabbit's foot down on the table. "It's this thing," he said, pointing at it. "It's horrible, and I can't get rid of it as it _keeps stalking me_!"

The four gods blinked with surprise, before taking a good long look at the spoil with their godly senses.

"That's one interesting spoil," Hermes said, diplomatically.

"It tries to make _me_ lucky by making _everyone else_ really unlucky. And I mean, seriously unlucky. When I just got it, it caused a woman to fall and break her ankle in three places! And when Hestia conjured a cup of tea, the ear broke off, that's how unlucky it makes people," Harry grouched, arms crossed, glaring at the rabbit's foot.

The four gods stifled grins at the sight. "And it stalks me," the young boy went on, not noticing. "I throw it away and it shows up a few hours later."

Hermes was rubbing his chin. "That could be a great item for when you want to prank someone," he said.

Harry looked aghast. "Hermes, no!" he shouted, once more forgetting he was shouting at a major god. "It makes everyone _around_ the person really unlucky, so all you'd be doing was hurting the people around the person holding it!"

The God of Travelers grinned. "I meant, holding it myself and getting near my… target," he explained. "That would make _them_ unlucky."

Harry nodded slowly. "Sorry, I misunderstood," he said. "And that could work, I guess. But it's stalking _me_."

Hermes waved it off, but was silently pleased with the apology nonetheless. He liked that about Harry, he was quick to stand up for people, but was also able to apologize when he was wrong. "That's because you're its owner. If you transfer the ownership to someone else, it'll be… ahem… stalking them."

Harry glared at the rabbit's foot, the entire concept of it offended him, his probability senses, and his mother's domain. "I've written Mom about it," he said. "There wasn't much she could do about it, she said, but advised me to try and leave it behind as often as possible as it made a real mess of her domain. I suppose giving it away is a good second choice."

The four gods nodded thoughtfully, each of them have had items interfere in their domains in the past and knew how much that rankled.

Hermes grinned and motioned to the foot. It seemed to suddenly be encased in a semi-translucent box made of some kind of ethereal energy. "There, now it won't bother us," the god said, before grinning. "Besides, who said anything about giving it away? We're at the table. Let's play for it, and meanwhile you can tell us the story of how you got this extremely interesting item." He immediately started shuffling the deck, preparing to deal the cards.

"Perhaps we should ask Harry for his opinion first?" Thor asked mildly. "It _is_ his spoil, after all."

Hermes stopped shuffling and looked at Harry, just as the three other gods turned their heads to look at him. It made him incredibly uncomfortable, and he shifted from left to right in his seat.

Finally, he shrugged. "Sure," he said. "Just promise me, whoever wins, they won't use it to hurt people. Pranking's fine, I guess, but don't let it hurt anybody. Like I said, on my quest, it caused someone a really nasty ankle break, and I don't want that to happen to anyone else."

The four gods looked at each other, and nodded slowly. "Sure, kid," Bai said. "That's a deal."

"Let's make it interesting," Hermes suggested. "Since Harry's betting an item, let's all bet random crap we have lying around to even things out."

Thor, Bai, and Triton considered that for a moment. "One hand of cards, winner takes all?" Thor asked. "Because I can see Harry ending up with the spoil he's trying to get rid of."

They all laughed.

"Tell you what," Bai said, leaning forward to look Harry in the eye. "Since you're trying to get rid of this spoil, let's play one hand of cards to see who gets it. No other bets, just highest hand takes the Unlucky Rabbit's Foot. Then, the next round, you bet that book on martial arts you took off me last year. Xuan Wu is on to me, I think, and I need it back."

Harry blinked. "You're in trouble because of that book?" He asked, worried.

Bai waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, no more than I usually am. But having it back would be useful."

The boy nodded once, got up, and left, leaving the four gods at the table, looking strangely at each other. Finally, he returned, with the large book in his hands.

"Here you go, Bai," he said, holding it out. "Thanks to Mister Hephaestus' boon, I memorized it, and if it helps, you can have it back."

Bai looked flatfooted. "You're just _giving_ it back?" he asked.

Harry shrugged. "Sure. You're great, I consider you a friend, and you're in trouble. Hestia told me to always help people when they need it, so if this helps you, you can have it back."

The Chinese god accepted the book, feeling strangely touched.

"You're not even asking for a favor?" Hermes asked, sounding either proud or offended – or both.

Harry grinned at his grandfather. "Hestia told me that helping people is its own reward. Besides, like I said, I consider Bai a friend, and friends help each other out."

The White Tiger grinned. "And thus you claim friendship instead of a reward," he teased, making Harry flush. The god gave a deep nod, one that verged on a bow. "Thank you."

Harry grinned back. "You're welcome, Bai."

"Still, Bai makes a good point," Hermes said, as if trying to steer the conversation away from the young mortal boy claiming friendship off of a major deity in the east. "Let's play one hand to see who gets Harry's spoil, then we'll start betting random crap we have lying around."

Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. "Are you trying to get someone else to clean your room, Hermes?" he asked, semi-seriously.

Three gods burst out laughing at the playfully-offended look on the face of the God of Thieves, before he, too, started laughing.

"That _would _be something I'd try, isn't it?" he asked, still chuckling. "No, this is on the up-and-up. I do have some stuff lying about that's just taking up space, and maybe this way someone else gets something out of it."

Harry shrugged, accepting that. The other three didn't look completely convinced, but kept quiet nonetheless.

"Alright, now that _that_ is over with, let's play," Hermes decided as he started flicking out cards. "And Harry, you may want to start on that story of where this thing came from."

Harry grinned, accepting his cards. "So it all started when this son of Ares insulted Hestia," he said.

After the cards were dealt, Harry took one look at his hand, didn't bother to change any cards, and just folded. "I fold," he declared, causing the gods to laugh. "Afterwards, I return to Olympus and Ares accosts me. Now I'm thinking that he's about to rip into me for tearing apart his son like that, but instead he seems pleased..."

0000

"That's when Pandora breaks her ankle; it's messy, and I could hear the cracking sound from where I was standing," Harry said.

"That sounds painful," Thor commiserated. "Pair or sixes," he added, not sounding happy.

"Luckily, she's able to use magic and healed herself right up," Harry explained.

"Good thing, that," Bai commented. "Three of a kind in fours."

Triton grumbled and threw his cards down. "Just a pair of twos," he declared.

Hermes stared mournfully at the spoil. "This sucks. I have only have two pair," he said. Bai let out a small whoop and made to reach for the spoil, when Hermes went on, "This pair of sevens. And a second pair of sevens."

Thor, Triton, and Harry laughed while Hermes made some rather obscene celebratory motions, and Bai stared angrily at the four of a kind the God of Thieves had just put down. He sulked childishly as Hermes swiped the spoil into a pocket that seemed too small to hold it.

"There," the God of Travelers announced with eminent satisfaction.

"Good luck, Hermes," Harry offered. "Please make sure it doesn't hurt anybody too badly, like Pandora's ankle."

"No worries, Harry," his grandfather said with a cheerful smile while rubbing his hands. "Oh, I'm going to have so much fun with this."

Harry didn't feel entirely reassured, but decided to ignore his worry and press on. "By the way, does anybody know how to flatter someone?"

Four deities stared at Harry, who suddenly felt an entirely different kind of worry.

"Finally! He's growing up!" Hermes said, suddenly right next to the boy and throwing a friendly arm around his shoulders. "You have to remember to always be as sincere as possible. Pick something you like about her and tell her you like it."

Harry blinked, and opened his mouth. Before he got a word in, Thor interrupted. "You must also remember to be confident. Be confident when flattering your lady friend, or she will think that you are insincere."

Bai nodded and pointed to the Thunder God. "He's right. And think up some poetry; girls like that kind of thing. Compare her eyes to the ocean or the stars or something. I can give you tips there."

Harry looked from one to the other, feeling panic rising in his chest.

"Perhaps a more casual approach would be best?" Triton offered, trying to be the voice of reason in this group of maniacs. "Perhaps Harry would prefer to have a more sedate conversation with the lady in question first? A nice compliment about her clothing, her shoes, or her choice of hairstyle, perhaps?"

Harry finally found his voice. "Ehm… that's really great, guys, but that wasn't what I had in mind… I mean, it's for Mister Apollo."

The four gods stared at Harry in stunned disbelief. "Apollo?" Hermes asked, the first to find his voice. All four gods seemed to shift uncomfortably, gazing from one to the other as if they were all waiting on someone else to speak first.

The young boy nodded. "After Pandora broke her ankle and fixed it so easily, I thought I could learn some healing. I asked Hestia if I could ask Mister Apollo and she said it would be a good idea, and that he likes being flattered, so I'm kinda wondering how to go about that."

Four gods burst out laughing, realizing they had completely misread the situation. Twice over, in fact.

"Apollo's a rather easy target," Hermes finally said. "Tell him you think he's the best healer, and that he's a brilliant teacher and you'll be fine."

Harry nodded once more. "But he _is_ the best healer, isn't he? Is it still flattery then?"

"That's the best kind of flattery, my boy!" Thor said, loudly, while laughing. "Be sincere, as we said!"

Harry looked dubious, but nodded anyway. Maybe his choice of friends to ask for advice wasn't the best, but he got what they were trying to tell him.

As silence descended, Hermes slapped the deck of cards down in front of Harry. "Let's play another round, and you can tell us the rest of your fascinating little tale."

"Are we still betting items?" the god asked, looking around the table as Harry took the deck and startled shuffling. The various gods shrugged, seemingly up for it. "In that case, I'm betting this gold box I took off some people a couple thousand years ago."

Next to the table appeared a gold box, with two long wooden poles threaded through metal circles attached to its side. On top of the box were two angel-like statues, with wings outstretched towards each other.

"It tries to kill people who open it incorrectly, so it's secure storage," Hermes explained. "But it's just taking up space now, so maybe someone else can get some use out of it."

Thor let out a whistle.

"That looks beautiful," Harry said, still shuffling without paying attention. "Where did you get it from, Hermes?"

Hermes shrugged. "Some people a couple of thousand years ago," he repeated. "They were fleeing some war or other and lugging this heavy thing with them. I decided to help them out and lighten their load."

Harry looked disappointed that his grandfather would basically rob a bunch of refugees. Hermes shrugged, unrepentant. "God of Thieves, boy," he said with a grin and good nature.

The mortal nodded, understanding about gods' natures welling up. He looked at the table, then rubbed his chin. He didn't really have anything he was willing to lose; his first rule was to never bet anything you weren't willing to live without.

Unless he bet one of his toys, or one of his books, of course; but those were plain mortal items that any god could get for themselves. He definitely didn't think anyone here would be interested in the bridge he'd made with the Meccano set, or the Nancy Drew books.

Then, inspiration struck.

He put the cards down, jumped from the table, and with a casual 'be right back!' he raced from the room.

The four gods looked in confusion at their young host's actions. "Anything I said?" Hermes asked. The other shrugged.

Harry was back within moments. "I didn't know what to bet," he said. "Since we're betting stuff instead of gold, I mean," he added, before plonking a piece of parchment down on the table. It was the good and expensive kind of parchment, the type Athena had him use when she tried to make him copy 'old books the old way'.

Using every skill he'd learned form her, Harry wrote an old-style note onto the parchment using his best cursive old-style handwritten font.

"There," he said when he was done, and had rolled up the parchment and put it on the table. "I will cook, for the winner and one other person of choice, a four-course meal of choice, consisting of a soup, an appetizer, a main course, and a desert."

"Nice," Hermes said, remembering Harry's exquisite cakes. The other gods didn't seem to have a problem with it either.

"In that case," Thor said, materializing a very pretty rock of a substantial size. It was light-yellow, but with green overtones depending on how one looked at it. "This silly thing is just eating up space."

"Is that diamond?" Hermes asked, staring at the stone.

Thor grinned. "Probably. I picked it up in a yard sale from an amusing fellow who thought it was glass."

The gods had a good laugh at that. Harry laughed too, although he wasn't really sure what the joke was.

"My turn," Bai said, dropping a sword on the table. "I took this off a Japanese Emperor some hundreds of years ago. He quickly had a copy made and passed that off as the real thing to avoid losing face, and I've had the original ever since. That copy vanished at the end of world war two, but hey, they didn't need to know that, right?"

Now Harry laughed along, getting the joke.

After a last chuckle, Triton did his best to look serious. "You are all barbarians for betting weapons or treasure," he tried to say sternly. Frankly, to Harry, he succeeded rather well, but the other gods were just chuckling and laughing. The Messenger of the Season produced a scroll and put it on the table, companionably next to Harry's promissory note. "This," the god went on, "is an original work by William Shakespeare."

Harry, curiously, looked at the scroll, then to the god. Triton gave a small nod and a tiny smile, and harry took the scroll and opened it.

"Love's Labour's Won," Harry read from the top of the scroll. "I don't know this one," he added.

Triton grinned, and with a motion of his finger, the scroll rolled itself up and placed itself back in the middle of the table. "If you win it, you can read it, young Harry," the god said.

"It's a good thing Miss Athena has me reading Shakespeare," Harry said. "He writes like Miss Zoë speaks, like before spelling was invented."

The various gods laughed. Finally, Hermes turned to Harry, and said, "Time to deal then, Harry. Let's see who takes the pot. And don't forget we need to hear the rest of the story."

Harry's fingers were already back to shuffling the deck without him even thinking about it. There was something very relaxing about the action, and he probably shuffled longer than was normally accepted.

"So we enter the cave, while Luna is telling me about something called a cave slug..." Harry started recounting while dealing out the cards.

0000

"That's when we see the bridgekeeper," Harry said. Since everyone had put their bets in earlier, they weren't adding to the pot.

Thor put his cards down. "Two pair," he declared, apparently confident in his hand. "A pair of threes and a pair of sevens."

Bai pretended to be upset when he threw his cards down. "Just one pair of twos," he said.

Triton grinned. "Three of a kind," he announced, showing three fives.

Hermes scowled slightly as he folded delicately. He didn't say anything but looked pointedly at Harry. Since his grandfather didn't seem to want to talk about his cards, Harry delicately spread out his hand.

"I have a straight, six through ten."

The gods groaned theatrically. Harry grinned widely and started cooping up the diamond, the sword, his promissory note, and the scroll with one of Shakespeare's plays, and made to put them in the golden box of Hermes'.

"Careful there, Harry. I wasn't kidding when I said it kills people who try to open it incorrectly. Let me show you how to work it properly," the God of Thieves warned.

"Thanks, Hermes!" Harry said with a grin. He looked around the table, for some reason he had the impression that the gods knew these items better than they let on, but he decided to ignore that. Gods often knew more than they were letting on; that's why they were gods. As long as he didn't get hurt, or nobody else got hurt, he didn't mind their little jokes.

0000

"That's when I open the box," Harry said, "and find a pair of armored swimming trunks."

The four gods explode into laughter. "Sometimes Ares has a brilliant sense of humor," Hermes said with a chortle. "Too bad he usually only uses the bloodthirsty sense of humor instead."

Harry nodded. "Luna scooped them up and kept them. What does it mean when a girl steals what's basically underwear, anyway?"

The four gods seemed both eager and reluctant to answer and instead looked hesitantly at each other.

"I have three tens," Bai said, exposing his hand and blatantly changing the subject. The three other deities were happy to go along with it.

"Two nines," Triton stated, putting his cards down.

"Three fours, and I thought I stood a chance," Hermes pouted childishly.

Harry laughed at his grandfather, and folded his cards. "Just a pair of queens," he said.

The four gods stared at him.

Harry blinked. "Sorry?" he offered, feeling nervous for some reason.

"It seems odd, you usually score better than that," Hermes said, electing himself spokesman.

Harry shrugged, a bit self-consciously. "Sorry?" he offered again.

"Nah, don't worry about it, Kid," Hermes said, waving it off. "Thor?"

"Just a pair of aces," The Norse God of Thunder stated, folding his cards.

Bai whooped and scooped in his winnings. "It's been a while, I was starting to forget how this feels," he joked as he accepted the deck from Thor and started shuffling.

0000

"That's when I returned to Olympus," Harry said, finishing his tale and explanation of his new sword.

"Only the God of War would try one-upmanship with a sword that has the potential to kill gods," Hermes said with a grin and a shake of his head. "Be very careful with that weapon, Harry. A blade that can change shape and accept the properties of slain enemies has the potential to become incredibly powerful."

Harry nodded, having heard the same kid of admonishment from Hestia before. "It can't really kill gods, can it?" he asked, tentatively.

"Not yet, no," Hermes said. "But kill one Ceryneian Hind or the Ophiotaurus, and suddenly it's another ballgame."

Harry nodded slowly. He'd heard that the blood of the Ceryneian Hind could kill, or at the very least severely injure, the gods. The Ophiotaurus, on the other hand, needed to be slain and its innards burnt in offering. He wasn't sure that power would translate to his sword, akin to how his sword had been unable to absorb the 'bad luck' thing from his – former – spoil.

"As frightening as a young mortal with the potential to kill gods is, let's just enjoy the game," Triton said, not sounding nearly as upset as his words would let one believe. Putting his cards down, he said, "Three of a kind in sixes."

Hermes scowled and threw his cards down. Harry grinned at his grandfather. "Flush," he said, spreading out his hand.

Thor pantomimed being skewered through the heart. "Already he is taking no prisoners!" the god declared theatrically. The others, Harry included, laughed.

Bai put his cards down. "And here I thought my straight would win the way," he said, calmly, while Harry stacked the gold onto his pile.

0000

"In short," Thor said, "never try to take Ratatoskr's horn. He gets nasty. I'll never look at squirrels the same way ever again."

They all laughed.

"Straight," Triton declared.

"Flush!" Hermes exclaimed, spreading his hands on the table. "Read 'em and weep!"

Harry put his cards face-down. "Can't beat that," he said, drawing another look from the other gods. Neither Thor nor Bai could beat Hermes' hand, and the God of Thieves racked in the loot.

"Seriously, Harry, what's up? Last time we could hardly beat you _at all_," Hermes said after stacking his winnings.

Harry shrugged again. "I've been getting better at my skills, and I think I'm better at turning them off now. Of course, now I have to worry about giving myself _bad luck_ instead of good luck."

The four gods nodded thoughtfully. "I, for one, appreciate the gesture," Triton said. "One should strive to behave honorably at the game table."

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "I love these games and I don't want you guys to stop inviting me. First, because it feels like cheating, and two, because you'd get tired of losing all the time."

The various gods chuckled. "We have our own ways of getting back, Harry," Thor said amicably. "Besides, some useless gold is a small price to pay to hear tales of your interesting life first-hand."

Harry laughed softly, but Bai looked at the Norse God. "Stop trying to live vicariously through our young friend."

Thor pouted. "But there is so little action in Asgard these days!" he whined playfully. The others laughed at him, while Harry reached out and patted the god's arm consolingly.

0000

Harry fell into bed that night with a big grin on his face. His first adult party had been a huge success, the four gods had enjoyed themselves, and his experiments with medieval foods had been a success, and massive stacks of gold had changed hands.

He'd still ended up winning more than he had lost, but it somehow felt _balanced_ so he didn't worry too much about it.

He'd gotten some good advice on his to approach Apollo, received another warning about his sword, and some good ideas on what to do if he ever needed to permanently get rid of a god.

Not that he'd ever see a reason to, but it was good to have a method and not need it, then to need it and not have it. Athena had made sure he knew that particular stratagem.

He closed his eyes, and almost immediately felt into the embrace of Morpheus. Time for a good night's sleep, tomorrow would be another day.


	31. Chapter 31

**Harry Potter, Squatter**

By Enterprise1701_d

**Chapter 31**

Harry sat, cross-legged, on top of a hill somewhere in the heartland of Africa. It had been several months since he'd returned from Caerbannog. Several months since he'd gained a potentially powerful sword, a pair of armored swimming trunks, and a very evil spoil that would have ruined the lives of everyone around him.

Several months since Luna had snatched the trunks, Hermes had won the bet for his malicious spoil, and he'd nervously gone to ask Apollo for lessons in healing.

Something the amicable God of the Sun had been more than happy to provide, even without Harry needing to flatter him. Harry had told himself it was the last time he'd listen to advice of this sort… it was far less stressful to just go and ask a god for help than agonize over how to approach him or her.

After all, like Hestia had told him initially, gods were people, too.

After all the hubbub over Ares' quest and his new spoil and his new weapon and his new training and so forth had all died down, Harry had thrown himself back into training his magic.

So far, he'd managed to do some pretty impressive things, if he said so himself. Unfortunately, they were all temporary. As Marduk had explained; he needed to access the magic of the world if he were to make permanent changes to it, and as long as he failed to do so, all he would be able to achieve were temporary things that fell apart the moment he stopped feeding them power.

Hence him sitting cross-legged on top of a hill in Africa. Despite his eyes being closed and his focus pointing decidedly inwards, he was still aware that his teacher was not far away, leaning against a baobab tree, probably with an amused grin on his face.

"I just don't get it," Harry said, opening his eyes after finally giving up. "I just can't reach the magic around me."

Marduk nodded agreeably. "It is a process of many years, Harry," he said as he pushed away from the tree. "Don't lose heart because it takes you a few months. I already told you, you are far ahead of anyone else I have ever trained or taught."

Harry pouted. He wanted magic!

"Don't pout, it's unbecoming," Marduk chastised gently as he paced up to the young boy. "Sometimes it is just a matter of visualization. You're probably just not visualizing it right; and of course, if your visualization isn't there, the execution won't be there, either."

Harry nodded agreeably, although he still felt bad over his repeated failure. "What do you use as a visualization?" he asked.

Marduk grinned; Harry had been asking the same question in different forms every time they had a lesson. "I've told you before, everyone visualizes differently. What works for one person likely won't work for another. And even if it did, it would have diminished returns because it wouldn't be _yours_."

Harry had been getting the same answer every time he tried. Still, he felt that getting a pointer at least would help.

"What are you feeling or experiencing when you try to reach for the magic of the world?" Marduk asked, sitting down in front of his young student.

"I don't know," Harry said after a few moments' contemplation. "I don't think I really _feel_ anything."

"Hmm," Marduk replied. "Normally, feeling the magic outside of yourself should produce _some _results, even if it is just an impression."

Harry looked down, feeling like an abject failure.

Marduk, meanwhile, didn't seem to notice, one finger tapping his chin in thought. "Very unusual," he said. "Then again, not unexpected."

Harry's head snapped up and stared at his teacher.

"I did warn you that it could take decades," Marduk reminded him. "You made unusually quick progress with the internal energy required for non-permanent conjuration and illusion magics. It would be foolish to assume that the same would be the case for external energy and permanent manipulation of reality."

Harry nodded slowly. He kept forgetting that part. He just wanted to get _on_ with things!

Marduk leaned down and clapped a coal shovel-sized hand on the boy's shoulder. "Don't worry too much, Harry. Just relax and let it come."

The young mortal sighed. "I just want to get _on_ with things," he whispered. "It feels like… I don't know. Like I'm not making ay progress at all."

"And that, too, is part of the process," Marduk explained. "Perhaps it is a failure of visualization. Perhaps it is not. Perhaps you need more training and patience. Perhaps you do not. Whatever the case is, everyone learns magic at a different pace."

Harry pouted again. Marduk gave him a _look_. He stopped pouting and sulked instead.

The huge man shook his head with a thin smile of amusement on his lips, before looking away, his gaze suddenly focusing on something green nestled in the branches of the baobab he'd been leaning against. The faint smile on his lips widened.

Harry looked curiously in the same direction as his teacher, his sharp gaze also focusing on the green thing. "What's that?" he asked.

"Green Mamba," Marduk replied. "It's less aggressive than the Black Mamba, but it's still highly poisonous. I love its shade of green, though."

Harry swallowed, now able to discern the fact that the green thing was indeed a green _snake_, coiled and curled up on one of the tree's massive branches. Marduk was right regarding its attractive shade of green, but he still felt weary about its venom and reputation.

The snake, as if recognizing that some people were looking at it, raised its head. _Those two-legs better not __annoy me__,_ Harry heard it hiss. _I'm __going __to bite them if they come after me, I swear._

_We're not here to hurt you,_ Harry hissed back, before realizing that he was doing so. Marduk, on the other hand, looked absolutely delighted.

_You're not?_ The snake asked, sounding snakily surprised. _Most two-legs start yelling and screaming and try and get me to move from my perch whenever I find a nice sunny spot __and they see me__._

Harry grinned up at it. _We've been here a while and not bothered you,_ he reminded the snake.

_Because you didn't know I was there,_ the snake said with a bit of snark._ Snakes have bad eyesight, but we're not blind or deaf._

Harry chuckled._ Still, we're not yelling and screaming now,_ he answered.

_I suppose_, the green mamba said. _Anyway, if you're not here to yell at me, or come after me with a stick, I'm just going to go back to sleep. This spot is nice and warm._

_Sleep well,_ Harry said politely, only to be answered with a tiny wave of the tip of the green mamba's tail.

"Wonderful!" Marduk said, smiling widely after realizing the conversation was over. "Speaking with snakes is a wonderful talent to have."

Harry smiled faintly. "Thanks?" he asked.

Marduk clapped him on the shoulder again. "I'm rather poor at learning non-human languages. I can understand them, but speaking them? No, not my area of expertise. Since you have snake speak down, we should see if we can train you in some others."

Harry nodded, hesitatingly. "But what about my magic?" he asked.

"It'll come," Marduk answered, waving it off.

"Is there really nothing you can do?" the young boy asked, softly. "I'm afraid that I'm just not good at magic."

His powerful teacher grabbed the boy's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I believe I told you, on our first meeting, that everyone can learn magic. Of course, for most people, it involves decades of study and trial and error. You've already made tremendous progress, Harry. Don't try and rush. Rushing will just delay you."

"Oh," Harry whispered, looking at the floor. "Sorry to keep asking," he added, afraid he'd annoyed his teacher.

"You're young, and you want to make progress," Marduk said with a grin. "Impatience is something I've had to shed a long time ago. When it comes to magic, that's often the best solution."

Harry looked up. "Often?" he asked.

"I knew you'd catch that the moment I said it," The ancient God of Magic stated, looking out over the plains of Africa, deliberately not looking at the tree in which a green mamba slumbered. "Yes, often," he repeated after a few moment's silence. "Slow and deliberate is the best option. However, in some cases, there are alternatives."

Linking his arms behind his back, the tall man drew a breath and ordered his thoughts. "Slow and deliberate will have you learn magic, understand it, manipulate it, build it, take it apart, and put it back together in whatever way, shape, or form required for the situation. That magic is the magic that I am teaching you."

"Build your own recipe," Harry said with a nod, remembering the analogy of their earliest lessons.

Marduk grinned. "Exactly. However, sometimes, you do not have the time to research and analyze what needs to be done. Sometimes, you need to move and act, and act _now_. In those situations, one can go for the quick and dirty option."

"Like the cake-mix," Harry said with a nod.

"Kinda sorta," Marduk answered. "We're not talking a regular spell here, we're talking Magic with capital M. Rituals. Ceremonies. Magic on a grand scale. If you don't have the time to do it _right_, you need to resort to quick and dirty, and take risks." His teacher trailed off, lost in thought.

"Risks?" Harry asked after a moment, not liking the sound of that.

Marduk returned to the there and then, and nodded. "Magic like that, taking shortcuts, it is dangerous. The amount of energy involved is substantial. Fail to contain it properly, and it will kill you with the backlash."

"Magic can have a backlash?" Harry asked, suddenly worried.

"Improperly cast magic can have a backlash," Marduk corrected. "Fail to visualize something properly, or make an improper change, or simply pit yourself straight-up against the combined belief of hundreds of millions of people, and you'll find that your magical energy will not react as you expect it to." The man waved it off. "But that's something for later, after you manage to access external magic and can actually start imposing your will on reality."

"Oh," Harry whispered, going back to feeling like a failure. He blinked. "Is there a quick and dirty way for me to learn this?" he asked, curiously.

Marduk sighed. "I have told you that I would never lie to you," he said. "Yes. Yes, there is a way." As Harry perked up, the man pressed on before he could say anything. "_However_, it is highly dangerous. As in, 'you will swim or you will drown' kind of dangerous. This shortcut will either get you to open your magic to the outside world, or it will _kill _you."

"Kill me?" Harry asked, aghast.

"Kill you," Marduk confirmed. "It will not _try_ to kill you. It will simply _kill_ you. This method, if it fails, results in death, period. That is why I did not bring it up, and why I have tried to steer you away from the subject."

The young boy nodded, debating whether he wanted to try or not.

Marduk sighed. "And this is why," he added. "The young are impetuous and think themselves immortal. I can see you debating whether to try, despite the risk of death."

"Well, if I die, I end up with Mister Hades," Harry answered. "So I'm not really afraid to die."

Marduk stared at him. Harry blinked; suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable with the stare his dark-skinned teacher was leveling on him. "When I speak of death, young Harry, I speak of _death_. Your soul will cease to exist. There will be no afterlife because there will not be a spirit to _go_ to the afterlife. There will be no judgment. No reincarnation. Nothing. _You. Will. Cease. To. Exist._"

Harry swallowed, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. Never had any of his teachers warned him that there were things that could actually erase his existence. Ever since he had learned of the gods, he had assumed he would end up in the case of Hades, Lord of the Underworld.

"Eh..." he stammered, taking a step back, suddenly pale.

"There are far, far worse things out there than death," Marduk warned. "Be very careful of what challenges you accept."

The young boy nodded hurriedly and quickly, hoping that his teacher would stop being so incredibly intense.

Marduk let out a breath and turned to watch the plains once more.

Harry breathed just as deeply, and looked up at the tree. The telltale green of the snake had vanished. Now that he thought about it, so had all the other animals. He looked around; no birds were in the sky. No animals were on the ground. It was as if, driven by Marduk's intensity, they had all fled.

The young boy closed his eyes and tried to center himself. Still, his thoughts went to the alternative route. He could keep trying, keep focusing on his magic, and possibly take years to _get it_. Or he could use the shortcut, take the high-risk option, possibly die, but end up with his magic open to the outside world if he lived.

"And you are still thinking about it," Marduk said, despite not once having turned back to face his student since their conversation ended.

"What?" Harry asked, startled from his thoughts.

"I can hear you grinding your brains from here," Marduk stated calmly, Harry wondering whether the man was serious or joking. "Stop thinking about it. It's too dangerous."

Harry pouted silently and tried to stop thinking about it. Of course, telling himself not to think about the shortcut forced him to think about the shortcut, which in turn made him think about whether or not he'd survive it.

It used to be that his instincts, the probability sense that he had inherited from his mother, would steer him in his decisions. Ever since he had started to learn to harness his gifts, he had lost that ability – something that saddened him. He missed having a guide around; unfortunately, as it was with most things, learning to do on purpose what you could do by instinct meant that you would lose the instinct.

So he focused on his senses and tried to get a feel for the probability.

Marduk sighed again. "You're still thinking about it," he stated. "Stop it."

Harry remained quiet and Marduk looked over his shoulder, surprised that his usually friendly student would suddenly turn silent. He found that Harry, instead of replying, had closed his eyes and was breathing deeply.

"Well now," Marduk said, as if Harry were listening and he wasn't talking to himself. "Isn't this interesting?"

The young boy opened his eyes. "I want to try," he said with conviction.

"It may kill you," Marduk warned.

Harry nodded. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

His teacher was silent for a few moments. "What are the odds?" he asked. "Since you obviously abused your talent for determining probabilities of future events."

"It doesn't work that way, not really," Harry said. "It's like… I feel lucky. And if I try and quantify it, I won't _be _lucky. So I shouldn't try and quantify it and just take my chances."

His ancient teacher was silent for a few moments, studying the young boy. "Perhaps you want to think about it," he said, obviously reluctant to go ahead. "Or, failing that, at least aim a prayer towards those that care for you." Folding his arms and giving Harry a stern look, he finished with, "Perhaps they can talk some sense into you."

Harry felt something quiver in his chest, suddenly feeling very bad about worrying Hestia or any of his friends, and shook his head. He didn't want to worry them, he wanted to get this over with!

"I shouldn't do this," Marduk said. "But, in the end, it is your choice." He sighed deeply. "The very young don't always listen to counsel," he lamented quietly, but not quietly enough for Harry to not hear him.

"Thanks, Marduk!" Harry said cheerfully, happy that his teacher was going to help him.

The ancient mage sighed again. "Fine. This is what is going to happen," he told Harry. He waved his hand, and a circle of light appeared on the ground. "You are going to step into the circle. And then either of two things will happen; either you succeed and walk out, or you fail and you don't."

Harry blinked. "What's going to happen in the circle?" he asked.

Marduk was silent for a few moments. "It will force outside magic into you. Either you will succeed, and open yourself up to outside magic, or you will fail, and it will destroy you."

The young student looked at the circle, suddenly feeling nervous. Just seeing it made things _real_ in a way that it hadn't been before. Up until now, it had been a _concept_, just a theory, but seeing it up close, it opened him up to the reality that he may cease to exist if he failed.

He swallowed, then drew a sharp breath, pulled back his shoulders, and righted his spine. He wasn't going to fail. He was going to _succeed_.

He glanced at Marduk, who was looking expectantly, as if wondering what his student was going to decide. He nodded at his teacher, then boldly stepped into the circle.

What happened next was indescribable, the concepts involved so far beyond normal reckoning that no language even had the words for it.

What he did know was pain. Pain and pressure.

The magic bearing down on him was agony incarnate, and Harry felt himself screaming without consciously being aware of doing so. A strange dichotomy settled over him, his awareness being both mind and body; both equally _Harry_ and both equally _separate_.

His mind fell into the strange state where he was able to see the energy flows of his body, his entire system lighting up like a Roman Candle, his three _Dan Tian_ exploding with energy from sources he could not discern.

His body meanwhile, simply screamed, howling its agony to the skies as if trying to split reality asunder with the sheer force of it.

Part of his awareness realized that he needed to find the source of this outside magic, and _shut it off_ if he was to survive; that same awareness tried to do just that and failed miserably. The magic was coming from somewhere he couldn't perceive, as if coming from a non-three-dimensional direction for which no word existed.

Suddenly he realized that this was what Marduk had, in a way, been trying to tell him; Magic that came from the outside world needed a _twist_, a direction that was impossible to perceive with eyes.

As he tried to focus his _mind_ rather than his _eyes_, he was aware of his body falling over from where it had been kneeling, aware that his heart and brain and organs were at their limits.

A strange sort of peace settled over him this near to death, a sort of fatalistic acceptance of things to come; _que sera, sera_ in purest form.

As his mind focused on his upper energy center, the Dan Tian of _Shen_ energy, without eyes, he tried to track the magic back. It wasn't coming from _up or down_. Norfrom _left or right_, and not even from _back and forth_.

Magic appeared from an unknowable direction, one that had no words in the English language or any other language known by humans. Trying to shed his limits and to forget everything he had ever learned about directions, his mind desperately tried to make sense of what it was perceiving.

Harry suddenly understood what Marduk had tried to explain to him on their very first lesson. _How do you explain the concept of a specific color to a sightless person?_

His lungs failed to scream now, he became aware. With his enhanced perception of this dichotomy, he knew his brain had only a minute or two left before it would starve of oxygen. His heartbeat was unhealthily fast. Thankfully, his heart was young and strong thanks to physical training with various gods and would survive for longer than his brain could survive without air.

The energy web of his body fell away as his mind shed prior conceptualizations, trying, in its final moments, to come up with _anything_ that would work, _anything at all_ that would explain what was happening and how to make sense of what it was perceiving.

He found his mind's eye on a cliff, amid a raging ocean of raging torrents, with wind howling around him; in its final moments his mind had decided to do away with higher-dimensional vision and simply transmute things into the three dimensions he knew.

And now he was being brought down by savage winds and ferocious seas.

Outside, Marduk had been worriedly tracking the progress of his student. First, the boy had fallen to his knees. Then, the screams had started. Both of those were expected, but still he worried. Despite everything, he cared for the boy and had wanted to spare him this experience.

The screams had continued, and then the boy had fallen to one side. Marduk winced, that was a bad sign. When the screams stopped, Marduk had desperately wanted to stop the spell; unfortunately he knew that to stop the spell now would simply doom his student anyway.

Suddenly, the spell circle cracked. Marduk's right eyebrow rose at the sight; the spell was supposed to simply stop when done. Cracking wasn't something he had expected. When the circle shattered in an explosion of magical energy, the ancient God of Magic actually, physically, took a step back. He hadn't retreated in thousands of years; yet physical memories died hard. With the unexpected explosion, he didn't think. Instead he had simply reacted and stepped back.

"What the-" the ancient man managed as he looked at his student. Harry was on the floor, curled into a fetal position. Around him, the air wavered, the very air thick with magic. Around him, the green of the grass was replaced with a pearlescent blue. It was still _grass_, but it had simply changed to a color that was found nowhere in nature.

Marduk gaped at the sight as the air thickened like jello, his finely tuned senses becoming aware of the fact that the magic swirling around Harry was violating the laws of physics in a way that was patently illegal in most countries.

"That explains a few things," Marduk muttered, stepping closer and ignoring the fact that a bubble around Harry was now incompatible with terrestrial life. The weird bluish grass seemed to thrive in the utterly alien environment, however.

The ancient man, walking the world for nearly two dozen millennia, hadn't been expecting this. He raised a hand, and pitched his will against the nightmarish kaleidoscope that Harry's abilities were wreaking upon a bubble of reality around him.

And imposed _absolute reality_ upon it.

At once, reality snapped back to its normal state, and the blue pearlescent grass turned green once more. Marduk drew a deep breath now that he was once again in a place where he could safely do so.

Harry let out a gurgle, then did the same. The ancient mage smiled down at his student, glad to see he survived.

"Rest well," he told the young boy as he picked his student up and walked way. Absolute Reality would make it impossible to perform magic – any magic – for quite a while. He needed to find a different spot so he could make camp and let the boy rest.

0000

Harry slowly opened his eyes, feeling worse than ever. Right now, he would have preferred waking up in the infirmary after rescuing Annabeth to how he felt right now.

From his back, he managed to look around. He was tucked against a wall of a mud-brick house, a fire burning merrily against the opposite wall. Seated not far away was his teacher, who was studying him intently while picking a cup filled with some unidentified liquid off the ground next to him.

"Awake?" Marduk asked, extending the cup-of-something.

Harry groaned. "I'll take that as acceptance," his teacher joked, still holding out the cup. The young boy groaned again, forcing himself to move.

"Hurts," he croaked.

"Yes, it would," Marduk agreed calmly, with a small smile. "You cut it very close. I'm sure you stopped breathing at one point."

Harry nodded slowly. "Lungs quit," he moaned. "Brain would be okay for a few minutes."

Realizing that his student wouldn't be able to reach out and take the cup he was still offering, Marduk shifted so he sat right next to Harry, and carefully lifted him up. The boy groaned loudly, but let Marduk tip some of the pitch-black liquid down his mouth.

It tasted like licorice, and it felt like liquid distilled energy. Immediately, the overwhelming pain started to lessen to something on the same level as pulled muscles.

Marduk tipped some more of the liquid down Harry's throat, and although he could move on his own now, the boy let him. As more of the strange potion settled in his stomach, he started to feel somewhat human.

"Better?" Marduk asked when the cup was empty and he released Harry.

The young boy nodded. "What happened?" he asked.

His teacher grinned. "I should ask you that. It was simply frightening on my end. You screamed, you fell to your knees, you screamed more, then you toppled over, stopped screaming, and stopped breathing. And then you shattered the spell in the most explosive way possible and started to basically rewrite reality in a bubble around you."

Harry blinked. "On my end, it was just painful. And I can't really describe it," he answered.

Marduk grinned. "Exactly. Difficult to put the concepts to words, isn't it?"

Harry nodded softly.

"Now, as far as I can tell, this is what happened," Marduk said. "When you first accessed your magic, you accidentally perceived the magic of the world, and your connection was so powerful that it scared you into instinctively sealing it off."

Harry sat straighter. "That was why you struggled; deep down, instinctively, you were afraid of it," Marduk went on. "And when you forced the connection open using that spell, all that magic came rushing in, and you didn't know what to do with it. Basically, you were dying of a different cause then."

"Oh," Harry whispered.

"You were rewriting reality in an attempt to burn out the foreign magic, to find anything at all that was _you_. It was quite interesting," the ancient mage commented. "I imposed Absolute Reality on that spot. Basically, I suspended the use of magic in that area, forcibly shutting down your connection to the outside magic. Things righted themselves immediately and you finally went to sleep."

"Oh," Harry confirmed.

"You, Harry Potter, have an extremely strong connection to magic. Unfortunately, you have no idea what to do with it. You will need training, and lots of it, to limit your intake of magic. As it stands now, you would basically be filling a shot-glass with a firehose," Marduk explained calmly. "I will teach you exercises, but you will, once again, need to find your own way."

"Because we don't have words," Harry answered.

"Exactly," Marduk replied. "As you've now discovered."

"I couldn't figure it out," Harry told his teacher. "I think that, in the end, my mind simply discarded it and changed the rules on me."

"Oh?" Marduk asked, raising an eyebrow.

Harry nodded. "The direction made no sense and I couldn't follow it, so in the end, my mind imagined me standing on a tall cliff in the middle of a storm, attacked by wind and sea."

Marduk rubbed his chin as he thought. As the ancient mage thought, Harry looked around for more of that potion. He liked licorice and could do with some more. Seeing a kettle of it bubbling over a fire not far away, he took the cup and reached for it.

"I would be careful if I were you," Marduk said. "That's condensed natural energy. Too much of it will burn you out rather than heal you."

Harry put the cup down; already familiar with Ambrosia and Nectar doing similar things.

"That's a very interesting perspective," the teacher finally said, as if he hadn't commented on Harry reaching for the potion. "In essence, that view is correct, I suppose. Magic surrounds everything, is in everything."

"I need to find a way to protect myself," Harry said. He frowned. "I think. I'm not feeling like I'm being attacked now."

"Be careful when you access that plane of your mindscape," Marduk said. "However, I think you will find it much calmer now. Your situation was quite different during, and just after, that spell."

Harry nodded. "Still," Marduk pressed on, "you are open to outside magic now. As soon as you leave this shelter, you will no longer be shielded. Magic is everywhere, as you've now discovered, and now that you are open to it, you will be able to perceive it in everything around you. It may be overwhelming."

Harry thought on that for a few moments. "You will be a sightless person seeing for the first time," Marduk stated. "You will need time to understand what you are sensing. Only then will you be able to start making alterations that are permanent, anchoring in the magic of the world around you."

"It takes decades to be good at magic," Harry said, repeating his teacher's often-used statement.

"Exactly," Marduk answered. "Although you are making rapid progress. Recklessly so, in case of this latest stunt. I have to warn you, from here on out, there are no shortcuts. If something seems too good to be true, then it is."

The young student nodded. His first instinct was to have some form of buffer, or a shield of some kind, to protect him. He wondered what was possible now that he had finally opened his senses to the outside magic.

"Come on, then," Marduk said, standing up and extending a hand. "Let's get you outside and see how you deal. I'm not sending you home before I know you'll be able to handle it."

Harry accepted the hand and let his teacher pull him to his feet. He wobbled for a moment at the sudden shift in equilibrium, as if his blood pressure dropped suddenly. It took only a moment for him to stabilize, but he was grateful to be able to hold on to Marduk's hand while he did so.

His teacher eyed him for a moment, and then decided that Harry was fine after receiving a nod. The ancient mage released him and pulled the door open. Something seemed to shift in the small house, and Harry realized that, with the door open, the protections had fallen.

Sunlight flooded in, and Harry stared at it, mesmerized, as if he had never before beheld the light of the sun. The color seemed more vibrant, more intense, then he had ever experienced before, and he could feel the strangely split nature of life-giving and live-destroying properties held in it.

"Intense, isn't it?" Marduk asked, gently, making Harry aware that he had been staring at a ray of sunshine for too long.

"It's brighter," Harry whispered. "And for some strange reason, it's split between making and destroying life," he added.

Marduk nodded. "You will find the same in many things. Nature is cruel, Harry, and you will find that many things have the capacity to both nourish and destroy."

The boy nodded, reminding himself of the things he had learnt from Athena.

"Shall we?" Marduk offered, motioning to the outside with one of his muscular arms.

Harry gave a brave nod and stepped into the light of the sun. Immediately, it felt like energy was being exchanged between his own body and the light of the sun, accompanying the sensation of _warmth_ on his skin. At once he realized that the magic was in the light and that the warmth he felt held some kind of magical component, which was what he was feeling.

As he stepped over the threshold, he once more froze and stared.

All of nature around them, every blade of grass, every insect, every plant and tree and flower and shrub, every stone and drop of water; it all held magic. Strong magic, weak magic, vibrant magic, dull magic, magic that moved, magic that didn't move. Everything was different, everything had its own nature, everything had its own history.

He found himself staring at a pebble at his feet, its history speaking of largesse, being part of a mountain, being ground down, being carried by water and moved by wind.

He let out a squeak when a large hand patted his shoulder and he was startled back to reality. "Be careful, Harry. You may find yourself lost in the history of things," Marduk warned him.

Harry nodded. "This stone," he said. "It used to be a mountain."

Marduk glanced at it. "Part of one, yes," he confirmed.

"But it doesn't feel anything," Harry added. "It doesn't miss being the mountain. It doesn't care about being moved by water and wind."

"Because it's a stone, Harry," Marduk said, amused. "It doesn't feel anything. Just because it has history, doesn't mean that it has an opinion on said history. It has magic, innate magic. Magic that, with sufficient training, you will be able to change and manipulate. You will be able to make it float, turn invisible, or do any myriad of things to and with it, and still that stone will not have an opinion. It will not object, nor have feelings about what was done to it."

"Oh," Harry said. He shifted his focus to the nature around him, the plants and trees and animals.

"Careful, Harry," Marduk said. "Plants and animals _are_ alive. Don't get drawn too deeply into their world. It will be an overwhelming experience if you do."

Harry felt like he was being careful when he gently probed the magic of the animals around him. Desire hit him; desire to feed, to hunt, to hide, to drink, to _mate_. But beyond all that, the single, overwhelming urge to survive.

Harry gasped when Marduk's hand pulled him out of it. "Careful, I said," his teacher reminded him, gently.

"They all want to live," Harry answered. "And they're driven to so many things."

"Instincts are powerful things," Marduk confirmed. "And yet, they do not feel as we do. They feel some things, but not others, and most lack the capacity of rational thought."

"Most?" Harry asked, confused.

"You will see," Marduk replied enigmatically.

"But I… we… eat them," the young boy whispered.

His teacher nodded. "You eat plants, too – and they have the desire to grow and live as much as animals do," he answered. "Again, I urge you to be careful. Losing yourself in the sensations of the world around you will only lead to harm."

"But-" Harry started, before Marduk cut him off.

"Harry, we live on Earth. Mother Earth, no matter under what name you know her, is petty and cruel. She delights in pitting everything against each other. This world is shaped on the overwhelming desire to continue living above all else, each creature existing on the destruction of another. In order for one creature to live, another must die. With a few incredibly rare exceptions, every creature and plant on this world follows that same immutable law."

Harry looked horrified.

Marduk gave him a gentle smile. "For now, do not let it concern you. Once you have gained some more wisdom and experience, I will teach you to access the Akashic Records. There are beings out there that live in complete and total harmony. It is an idealistic paradise; unfortunately not one we can exist in."

Harry looked confused. "How so, Marduk?" he asked.

Marduk grinned. "In a paradise of cooperation, beings live in a sort of symbiosis; one creature creates energy and passes it on to another, who passes it on to another, and so forth. We humans are incapable of such; with few exceptions we kill to eat, either plants or animals."

"Oh," Harry whispered.

"Cooperation is a beautiful ideal; however, it has its downsides. Without competition, there is very little evolution. It takes such a world billions of years to do what happens on Earth in mere millions. Also, our lifeforms, shaped in adversity and competition, are tenacious. Every creature on this world has a hard-wired instinct to do what is necessary for survival. Just look at what Humans do to each other in the name of survival."

Harry looked away, feeling disturbed by the turn of the conversation and overwhelmed by the presence of magic in the world around him. He could feel it calling to him again, enticing him to share in the presence of nature.

"Let me try and teach you a few techniques to remain balanced," Marduk said, putting one hand on Harry's back. "When you first open your senses to the world, it's always an eye-opener."

Harry gave him a filthy look at the bad pun. Marduk just laughed.

"Come on," he said. "Close your eyes and try and block out the magic of the world around you."

Harry fell silent, closed his eyes, and tried to do as his teacher asked. Immediately, he fell into the meditative trance that he had grown so accustomed to, and visualized the internal energy flows of his body.

He became aware that his energy flow was quite different now, as if he had opened some energy nodes that hadn't been opened before. In fact, he hadn't even been aware of those particular nodes' existence – or perhaps they simply _hadn't_ existed before.

Closing them, however, proved to be a more difficult thing.

He traced the flow of energy throughout his energy network, and found that his his upper Dan Tian, his _Shen_ energy centre, was wide-open now, almost akin to a third eye.

It took him quite a few minutes of studying the strange phenomenon, before he found a way to close it up again.

He opened his eyes. His perfectly normal, _human_ eyes. The world felt dull, flaccid, as if it were a grainy movie he was watching on an old TV-set.

He immediately reopened his sight. Sights and sounds hit him, the magic of the world conveying life and death to his mystical senses.

"Good," Marduk said. "You closed your senses. For about five seconds, anyway."

Harry looked down. "It's hard to resist when you first learn the skill," the ancient mage told him, lifting his chin with one gentle finger. "Try closing your senses again, and keep them closed."

Harry nodded. Now that he knew what to do it was as simple as flicking a switch. The world turn dull and gray. He resisted the urge to reopen the connection to the outside world.

"When you first learn this skill, you need to learn not to keep the connection open all the time. The influx of energy and information will overwhelm you. You will start losing yourself in the sensations of the world around you," Marduk said. "It will take you time and effort to learn to shield and filter that connection so you can keep it up all the time."

Harry nodded softly. "Can I…?" he started to ask, before stopped.

Marduk grinned. "It's addictive, isn't it? Try opening and closing the connection a few times, so you get the hang of the transition. I'm not sure if you're aware, but you freeze for close to ten seconds when you do."

Harry blinked; no, he hadn't been aware of that. It was definitely something he had to work on.

He blinked the connection on and off a few times, each revolution making him want to linger with it on. He repressed the desires and simply worked on the exercise, as Marduk as had instructed.

"Good," Marduk said, disrupting his concentration. "It's taking you about five or six seconds now. You're making progress."

"Thanks, Marduk," Harry said, trying for a smile but sure it wasn't coming out right. He still felt the urge, the desire, to turn the connection back on.

"It'll take you some time to rebalance," his teacher repeated his earlier statement. "Try exercising every day, turning the connection on and off. You'll find that it gets easier the more you do it, and the more you do it, the less intense the desire will be to just keep it on."

Harry nodded. "That sounds good."

"Now, let's see if we can't teach you some shielding or filtering techniques. It's doubtful you'll get them down quickly, but we may as well get started. You have the off-switch now, so you're in no hurry."

The young boy nodded again. Marduk held out a hand. "Grab my hand. Now that you know how, open your senses to magic and watch what I do. Our visualizations are different but the results will be the same. Using your senses you will be able to see, in your own way, what I do through my own ways."

Harry grabbed his teacher's huge hand, closed his eyes, and opened himself up to the magic of the world. He drew a breath, then opened his eyes and focused on his teacher.

His teacher, who was even bigger and darker when seen through magic-senses than he was in the physical world. Harry could see the magic of the man, the way that he shaped the world simply by breathing. It was as if, rather than Marduk existing on the world, the world was there to support Marduk. Then he blinked, and the relationship between world and man righted itself.

"Good," Marduk said, grinning. Harry could _feel_ the amusement through Marduk's magic leaking into the surrounding world. "You saw me pull in a fraction of the power that I have available to me, and saw the impact that it was having on the fabric of reality around me."

Harry nodded. "Now, let's demonstrate some shielding and filtering," his teacher said.

He watched intently as Marduk demonstrated. Contrary to the words used, shielding and filtering had very little to do with actual shields or actual filters. To Harry's eyes, it was as if Marduk's magic told the magic of the outside world what it wanted to perceive at that particular moment, to which the outside magic replied with a sort-of jaunty 'okido' response.

Of course, there wasn't really a conversation, and if it was, it was an incredibly repetitive one, as it seemed Marduk's magic was broadcasting this request on a sort of repeating loop.

Harry had no idea how to get his magic to do the same.

"Good," Marduk said. "Watch _deeper_."

Harry blinked, not having expected his teacher to know just what he had been watching or what his conclusions were.

"Your magic is broadcasting your thoughts without me having to bother to read them," Marduk explained, sounding incredibly amused. "That's another thing this technique will teach you: how to make sure your magic isn't broadcasting your innermost thoughts to anyone who has the ears to listen."

"Oh," Harry said. He focused and tried to look deeper. Suddenly, it was as if he was being blasted in the face by a hosepipe of raw magic.

"Oops, let me fix that," Marduk said. The hosepipe trickled out, and it felt to Harry as if it were merely raining now. "I keep forgetting just how much magic I have compared to you," his teacher apologized. "That was rather uncomfortable, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded silently, but kept up his focus. He wanted to know how his teacher did the trick of having his magic tell the world what it wanted to know, and no more.

0000

In the end, he had to give up. Even with Marduk's potion of energy, he had still walked to the edge of death and had it blink first. Exhausted, he stumbled out of the fire at the Temple of Helios, and managed a weak greeting to the disembodied god.

Helios' presence wrapped around him, radiating worry. Harry managed a short explanation, before falling face-down into bed, not even bothering to take off his clothes.

When he woke up, sometime the next day, he found Hestia seated at his bedside, smiling gently at him.

"Morning Hestia," he managed, his throat raspy.

"Good morning Harry. I heard you had an eventful lesson yesterday," the Goddess of the Home said while handing him a cup of refreshingly cool water. He accepted it, and drank more than a few mouth fulls.

Putting the cup down on the nightstand, Harry nodded at her. "Marduk taught me to see the magic in the world," he said. "It was rather dangerous, because I wanted the quick way, but I got through it just fine. I was really tired, though."

Hestia looked at him, calmly and patiently, yet said nothing. He started fidgeting, wondering why she was staring at him like that.

"Are you sure it was just 'rather dangerous'?" she finally asked, as if she already knew the answer and was just offering him a chance to come clean.

"Rather very dangerous?" he offered with a tentative smile.

Hestia nodded. "That is what I thought," she said. "I am glad you are alright, but I do wish you would stop taking silly risks with your life. You are a mortal, and barring a few exceptions, you only get the one life."

Harry looked at his hands on top of the covers, suddenly realizing he was dressed for bed and had a sheet over him, while he was pretty sure that he'd not bothered to undress and had fallen asleep on top of the covers.

"But, in the end, you made it through," Hestia said when he remained quiet. Putting her hand on top of his, she added, "Please think of those that care for you, Harry. If you die, you will be leaving everyone."

He nodded silently, feeling guilty and bad over his decision.

"Come now," she reassured, "look up. It's not the end of the world. I merely want you to think your actions through next time. Do you think you can do that for me?"

Harry nodded softly. Shyly, he looked up, wondering what Hestia looked like when he opened his new sight. He started to feel the by-now familiar click in his mind, when suddenly his head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging.

"Wha-?" he asked, surprised more than in pain.

"That was a very _stupid_ thing to do," Hestia said, sternly. "Looking at a god's full, true, form would have _killed_ you. You were lucky that I was able to break you out of it quickly enough!"

Harry's hand touched his cheek. It still stung. "You hit me," he whispered.

Hestia nodded. "I shouted your name. You did not respond. I had to break you out of that trance. You were lucky I was quick enough."

"You, hit me," he repeated, as if he couldn't believe it. Part of him couldn't.

Hestia sighed. "I am deeply annoyed that we need to have this conversation _again_, right after we finished the first one." She touched his cheek, over his own hand that still cradled it. The stinging sensation vanished. "I am very sorry I had to do that, Harry. The alternative was to let you kill yourself."

"But..." Harry whispered. "I looked at Marduk."

Hestia nodded. "And he is the oldest being on this planet, and started out as a mortal, so he knows how to shield himself properly. You know that looking up a god's full form is death for a mortal."

He looked sheepish, he'd completely forgotten that. "Promise me that you will _not_ repeat that mistake," she said, demanding rather than asking.

He hated it when Hestia was mad at him. Deep inside, that small, damaged part of him would always remind him that everyone abandoned him, and that this was the moment she would turn around and walk out of his life.

"I'm sorry," he said, again. "I forgot. I just wanted to see what you looked like, and it was fine with Marduk, and I completely forgot that looking at a god's full form means death to a mortal."

Hestia looked at him for a few moments, then sighed again, and nodded. "You will have me grow gray hairs," she complained with a small smile. "Please be more careful in the future."

He just nodded, and leaned into her touch. When her arms came up around him, he let out a deep breath, finally feeling like everything was right in the world again. A hug from Hestia made everything better.


End file.
